A Damsel in Distress

Reggie raised her hand to his lips, and nibbled at it gently.

"Blessums 'ittle finger! It shall lift it and have 'ums Reggie

jumping through. . . ." He broke off and tendered George a manly

apology. "Sorry, old top! Forgot myself for the moment. Shan't

occur again! Have another chicken or an eclair or some soup or

something!"

Over the cigars Reggie became expansive.

"Now that you've lifted the frightful weight of the mater off my

mind, dear old lad," he said, puffing luxuriously, "I find myself

surveying the future in a calmer spirit. It seems to me that the

best thing to do, as regards the mater and everybody else, is

simply to prolong the merry wedding-trip till Time the Great Healer

has had a chance to cure the wound. Alice wants to put in a week or

so in Paris. . . ."

"Paris!" murmured the bride ecstatically.

"Then I would like to trickle southwards to the Riviera. . ."

"If you mean Monte Carlo, dear," said his wife with gentle

firmness, "no!"

"No, no, not Monte Carlo," said Reggie hastily, "though it's a

great place. Air--scenery--and what not! But Nice and Bordighera

and Mentone and other fairly ripe resorts. You'd enjoy them. And

after that . . . I had a scheme for buying back my yacht, the jolly

old Siren, and cruising about the Mediterranean for a month or so. I

sold her to a local sportsman when I was in America a couple of

years ago. But I saw in the paper yesterday that the poor old

buffer had died suddenly, so I suppose it would be difficult to get

hold of her for the time being." Reggie broke off with a sharp

exclamation.

"My sainted aunt!"

"What's the matter?"

Both his companions were looking past him, wide-eyed. George

occupied the chair that had its back to the door, and was unable to

see what it was that had caused their consternation; but he deduced

that someone known to both of them must have entered the

restaurant; and his first thought, perhaps naturally, was that it

must be Reggie's "mater". Reggie dived behind a menu, which he held

before him like a shield, and his bride, after one quick look, had

turned away so that her face was hidden. George swung around, but

the newcomer, whoever he or she was, was now seated and

indistinguishable from the rest of the lunchers.

"Who is it?"

Reggie laid down the menu with the air of one who after a momentary

panic rallies.

"Don't know what I'm making such a fuss about," he said stoutly. "I

keep forgetting that none of these blighters really matter in the

scheme of things. I've a good mind to go over and pass the time of

day."