Jasmyn Vere was extremely anxious, as he always was, to have something a little out of the way for his party. He literally lived for society, and, in a minor degree, for Agatha. As he was a bachelor, and had devoted even more time and energy to knowing none of the wrong people than to knowing all the right ones, a party of his was looked upon as not a thing to miss, particularly as a decorous originality was always to be expected. Lady Nora Wilton, a beauty of the early '80's, was a graceful and still pretty woman of forty-five; it was probably from her that Bertie had inherited his good looks and high spirits. "What _can_ we do just a little original?" Jasmyn had asked her. "What sort of thing? You don't mean to be American and let all the people come dressed as children, or ask some wild animals to look in in the evening?" Jasmyn threw up his hands in horror. "My dear Lady Nora, don't make fun of me! No, some rather intelligent people are coming." "Really? I thought your parties were always very smart!" "There'll be some people who can talk, don't you know." "What about?" said Lady Nora. "Ah! that's the point! Now, I propose that when supper's on there shall be a special supper served at one table for ten in my little octagon room, and _with_ the menu a subject for conversation with each item! It will, of course, not bore people, because, from the programme, they will see there is an ordinary supper-room too, and they can choose!" "It will be a general conversation, remember; and people aren't very keen on that," said Lady Nora. "Well, we shall see. So long as you don't disapprove (and one other lady to whom I shall speak of it). I think it's not a bad idea. I shall not have good music, Lady Nora. It isn't a concert--it's a conversazione." "But you won't have _bad_ music? I can't imagine anything bad in your house," said Lady Nora. "No, but music that encourages talk. De Valdez once sang at my house--_Everybody_ was there, and they _all_ talked! He got up and said, in the middle of Although, that lovely song, 'Here are five hundred people who want to talk, and only one who wants to sing. The odds are not fair. I give in.' And nothing would induce him to go on. But as he remained and was most agreeable to every one, one could hardly call it the caprice of a spoilt artist. Indeed, I think he was quite right." Lady Nora sighed. "But how uncomfortable! Well, then, you'd better have the Blue Hungarians and the Red ones too. Those who don't like the one can listen to the other." He laughed and said, "Bertie's the image of his mother. I shall have a first-rate band and second-rate music." "Agatha, Mrs. Wilkinson," was delighted at all the plans but said she simply _must_ go to supper with Bobby Henderson, as it would be too marked to be escorted by the host. As a matter of fact, nothing Agatha did was ever noticed, because she never did anything that was not extraordinary. * * * * *