had exercised Woman’s prerogative and changed her mind. Also, that she had done this on the actual wedding-day, causing annoyance to all, and had clinched the matter by eloping to Jersey City with the prospective bridegroom’s own coachman. Whatever the facts, there was no doubt about their result. Mr. Galloway, having abjured woman utterly, had flung himself with moody energy into the manufacture and propagation of his “Tried and Proven” Braces, and had found consolation in it ever since. He would be strong, he told himself, like his braces. Hearts might snap beneath a sudden strain. Not so the “Tried and Proven.” Love might tug and tug again, but never more should the trousers of passion break away from the tough, masterful braces of self-control.

As Mr. Galloway had been in this frame of mind for a matter of eleven years, it seemed to Rollo not unreasonable to hope that he might continue in it permanently. He had the very strongest objection to his uncle marrying a chorus-girl; and, as the years went on and the disaster did not happen, his hopes of playing the role of heir till the fall of the curtain grew stronger and stronger. He was one of those young men who must be heirs or nothing. This is the age of the specialist, and years ago Rollo had settled on his career. Even as a boy, hardly capable of connected thought, he had been convinced that his speciality, the one thing he could do really well, was to inherit money. All he wanted was a chance. It would be bitter if Fate should withhold it from him.

He did not object on principle to men marrying chorus-girls. On the contrary, he wanted to marry one himself.

It was this fact which had given that turn to his thoughts which had finally resulted in the schedule.

The first intimation that Wilson had that the schedule was actually to be put into practical operation was when his employer, one Monday evening, requested him to buy a medium-sized bunch of the best red roses and deliver them personally, with a note, to Miss Marguerite Parker at the stage-door of the Duke of Cornwall’s Theatre.

Wilson received the order in his customary gravely deferencial manner, and was turning to go; but Rollo had more to add.

“Flowers, Wilson,” he said, significantly.

“So I understood you to say, sir. I will see to it at once.”

“See what I mean? Third week, Wilson.”

“Indeed, sir?”

Rollo remained for a moment in what he would have called thought.

“Charming girl, Wilson.”

“Indeed, sir?”

“Seen the show?”

“Not yet, sir.”

“You should,” said Rollo, earnestly. “Take my advice, old scout, and see it first chance you get. It’s topping. I’ve had the same seat in the middle of the front row of the stalls for two weeks.”

“Indeed, sir?”

“Looks, Wilson! The good old schedule.”