"Here is my card with my address," continued Gortsby; "any day this week
will do for returning the money, and here is the soap--don't lose it
again it's been a good friend to you."
"Lucky thing your finding it," said the youth, and then, with a catch in
his voice, he blurted out a word or two of thanks and fled headlong in
the direction of Knightsbridge.
"Poor boy, he as nearly as possible broke down," said Gortsby to himself.
"I don't wonder either; the relief from his quandary must have been
acute. It's a lesson to me not to be too clever in judging by
circumstances."
As Gortsby retraced his steps past the seat where the little drama had
taken place he saw an elderly gentleman poking and peering beneath it and
on all sides of it, and recognised his earlier fellow occupant.
"Have you lost anything, sir?" he asked.
"Yes, sir, a cake of soap."
A TOUCH OF REALISM
"I hope you've come full of suggestions for Christmas," said Lady Blonze
to her latest arrived guest; "the old-fashioned Christmas and the up-to-
date Christmas are both so played out. I want to have something really
original this year."
"I was staying with the Mathesons last month," said Blanche Boveal
eagerly, "and we had such a good idea. Every one in the house-party had
to be a character and behave consistently all the time, and at the end of
the visit one had to guess what every one's character was. The one who
was voted to have acted his or her character best got a prize.
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