"He won't announce my toast for me," explained Dilly, turning to us--"he's too shy, poor dear!--so I'll do it myself. Ladies and gentlemen, the toast is--Dicky!" Dicky's health was drunk with cheers and laughter, and Dilly completed its subject's confusion by kissing him. "Now, Dolly!" said every one. "Not yet!" said Dolly. "Gerald and Moke are the next pair. Gerald must act lady, and think of a toast." Master Gerald, hastily bolting a solid mass of mince-pie--one could almost follow the course of its descent--cheerfully complied. "All right," he said; "I think I'll drink the health of old Moke himself. He's not much to look at, but he's a good sort. I shan't kiss him, though, Dilly. And," he added, "I think he had better drink mine too. He looks thirsty. Come on, sonny--no heeltaps!" He elaborately linked arms with the now comatose Donkin, and each thereupon absorbed, without drawing breath, about a pint of cider apiece. After that, with a passing admonition to his friend not to burst, my brother-in-law returned to his repast. So far, the toasts had all been of a most conventional and inevitable character. Now, automatically but a little tactlessly, we all turned to see what Dolly and Robin were going to do. From the standpoint of the last two toasts they were certainly in a rather delicate position. "Come on, you two!" commanded Gerald. "Do something! Make a spring!" Robin took up his glass of champagne and turned rather inquiringly to Dolly. Without a word she linked her arm in his, and they drank together. "Oh, come, I say, that's not fair! Whose health were you drinking, Robin, old man?" inquired the tactless Dicky. "I was drinking to the future Mrs Fordyce--whoever she may be!" said Robin, obviously apologetic at being unable to think of anything more sparkling. "Whose health were _you_ drinking, Dolly?" yelled Gerald, with much enjoyment. Then Dolly did a startling thing. Robin's hand lay resting on the table beside her. Into it she deliberately slipped, her own; and then gazed--flushed and defiant, but proud and smiling--round a circle composed entirely of faces belonging to people suffering from the gapes. I glanced at Robin. He looked perfectly dumfounded, but I saw his hand close automatically round Dolly's fingers, and I saw, too, her pink nails go white under the pressure. But Dolly seemed to feel no pain. On the contrary, she continued to smile upon us. Then, bowing her head quickly, before any of us realised what she would be at, she lightly kissed the great hand which imprisoned her own. Then she looked up again, with glistening eyes. "There!" she said. "_Now_ you know!" Our breath came back, and the spellbound silence was broken. "_Dolly_!" said Kitty. "My _dear_!" said Dilly. "What--_ho_!" drawled Dicky. But it was Gerald who rounded off the situation. He was standing on the table by this time. "Three cheers for Dolly and Robin!" he roared.