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Rh last one of them. You never can tell. A little soft soap goes a long way sometimes. I could ask him to have luncheon with me at Bombay House. Um-m-m!" He fell into a reflective mood.

Mrs. Smith-Parvis also was thoughtful. An amazing idea had sprouted in her head.

"Has he a wife?" she inquired, after many minutes.

"They always have, those chaps," said he. "And a lot of children."

"I was just wondering if it wouldn't be good policy to have them to dinner some night. Philander," she said.

"Oh, my God!" he exclaimed, sitting up suddenly and staring at her in astonishment.

"Every little helps," she said argumentatively. "It would be like opening the seventh heaven to her if I were to invite her here to dine. Just think what it would mean to her. She would meet—"

"They probably eat with their knives and tuck their napkins under their chins."

"I am sure that would be amusing," said she, eagerly. "It is so difficult nowadays to provide amusement for one's guests. Really, my dear, I think it is quite an idea. We could explain beforehand to the people we'll have in to meet them,—explain everything, you know. The plan for Stuyvesant, and everything."

He was still staring. "Well, who would you suggest having in with Mr. and Mrs. Con McFaddan?"

"Oh, the Cricklewicks, and the Blodgetts,—and old Mrs. Millidew,—I've been intending to have her anyway,—and perhaps the Van Ostrons and Cicely Braithmere, and I am sure we could get dear old Percy Trom-