"Her eyes," said Bill Brewster, "are like--like--what's the word I want?"

He looked across at Lucille and Archie. Lucille was leaning forward with an eager and interested face; Archie was leaning back with his finger-tips together and his eyes closed. This was not the first time since their meeting in Beale's Auction Rooms that his brother-in-law had touched on the subject of the girl he had become engaged to marry during his trip to England. Indeed, Brother Bill had touched on very little else: and Archie, though of a sympathetic nature and fond of his young relative, was beginning to feel that he had heard all he wished to hear about Mabel Winchester. Lucille, on the other hand, was absorbed. Her brother's recital had thrilled her.

"Like--" said Bill. "Like--"

"Stars?" suggested Lucille.

"Stars," said Bill gratefully. "Exactly the word. Twin stars shining in a clear sky on a summer night. Her teeth are like--what shall I say?"

"Pearls?"

"Pearls. And her hair is a lovely brown, like leaves in autumn. In fact," concluded Bill, slipping down from the heights with something of a jerk, "she's a corker. Isn't she, Archie?"

Archie opened his eyes.

"Quite right, old top!" he said. "It was the only thing to do."

"What the devil are you talking about?" demanded Bill coldly. He had been suspicious all along of Archie's statement that he could listen better with his eyes shut.

"Eh? Oh, sorry! Thinking of something else."

"You were asleep."

"No, no, positively and distinctly not. Frightfully interested and rapt and all that, only I didn't quite get what you said."

"I said that Mabel was a corker."

"Oh, absolutely in every respect."

"There!" Bill turned to Lucille triumphantly. "You hear that? And Archie has only seen her photograph. Wait till he sees her in the flesh."

"My dear old chap!" said Archie, shocked. "Ladies present! I mean to say, what!"

"I'm afraid that father will be the one you'll find it hard to convince."

"Yes," admitted her brother gloomily.

"Your Mabel sounds perfectly charming, but--well, you know what father is. It IS a pity she sings in the chorus."

"She-hasn't much of a voice,"-argued Bill-in extenuation.

"All the same--"

Archie, the conversation having reached a topic on which he considered himself one of the greatest living authorities--to wit, the unlovable disposition of his father-in-law--addressed the meeting as one who has a right to be heard.

"Lucille's absolutely right, old thing.--Absolutely correct-o! Your esteemed progenitor is a pretty tough nut, and it's no good trying to get away from it.-And I'm sorry to have to say it, old bird, but, if you come bounding in with part of the personnel of the ensemble on your arm and try to dig a father's blessing out of him, he's extremely apt to stab you in the gizzard."