"Oh, you never can tell," Mrs. Throcton cheerily declared. "It's all luck, pure luck. This man died because it isn't in fate for any man who is never late to dinner to live long, but still living is all luck. If the 'dread angel,' as you call him, happens to look your way and fancies you, why, off you go--plunk! like a frog in the pond." Mrs. Throcton had scarcely concluded this genial doctrine before the belated guest, all bows, smiles, and graceful attitudes, was rendering homage to Miss Maddledock. "Sir!" she said, "you will kindly observe that my aspect is severe. You are indicted for--for--what is he indicted for, Mr. Linden?" Linden was a lawyer, and he answered promptly: "For violating Section One of the Code of Prandial Procedure, which defines tardiness at dinner as a felony punishable by banishment from all social festivities at the house where offense is given, for a period of not less than two nor more than five years." "You hear the--the--what are you, Mr. Linden--something horrid, aren't you?" "He is, or his looks belie him," interjaculated Torbert. "The prosecutor, your Honor," replied Linden, "prepared, with regard to this prisoner, to be as horrid as I look." "May it please the Court," began Torbert, with mock gravity, "I find myself the victim of an unfortunate situation, and not a conscious and willing offender against the Prandial Code. Justice is all I ask. More I have no need for. Less I am confident your Honor never fails to render." "Now, Mr. Prosecutor, where's my judicial temperament gone that you compliment me upon so often?" demanded Miss Maddledock, turning sharply to the lawyer. "I had it a moment ago, together with a frown; where have they gone?" "They will return directly I call your Honor's attention to the flagrant nature of the prisoner's crime," said Linden--"a crime so utterly atrocious--" "True, you do well to remind me. Justice you called for, sir. Very well. Justice you shall have. Go on!" "Your Honor is most gracious. That part of the indictment which charges me with having an engagement to dine with your Honor at seven P. M. is admitted. I left my house in plenty of time, but--" Mrs. Throcton (_sotto voce_).--Does the prisoner live in Harlem? Miss Nancy.--Or in Hoboken? The Court (with great dignity)--If the prisoner is going to put his trust in the saving grace of the elevated cars or the tardy ferry, the Court would prefer not to delay its consomme listening to such trivial excuses. The Court's soup is growing cold. A roar of laughter greeted this observation, and Mr. Linden remarked, "The prosecutor feels it his duty to suggest that the prisoner enter a plea of guilty, and throw himself at once upon the Court's mercy."