"Ah! Helen," sighed Dr. Bleedem, "your health and rosy cheeks are worth all my drugs."
"'I would I were a glove upon that hand, that I might touch that cheek,'" quoted the tragedian from his favourite "Romeo and Juliet."
"Order, order!" cried various other members at once.
At that moment our host entered to call away his daughter, so Helen was spared further banter.
As the meal proceeded the company began to dispute who should tell the next story. Of those present who had not yet entertained the company with a tale were Mr. Crucible and Mr. Oldstone. One of the two must tell a story, as the club decreed, but as each of these gentlemen wished to lay the burden of the story upon the shoulders of the other, nothing seemed likely to be settled.
Accordingly, after the breakfast things had been removed dice were called for, and it was agreed that whoever should throw the highest should tell the story. Our host soon returned with the dice-box, and remained to see which of the two gentlemen should throw the higher number.
Mr. Oldstone seized the dice-box, and shaking it well, threw double five. It was now Mr. Crucible's turn, so taking the dice-box from the hand of the first thrower, and rattling it twice or thrice, he threw the number twelve.
"Now then, Crucible," said Mr. Oldstone, laughing, "no shirking, but let us have the story at once."
"What! so soon after breakfast!" exclaimed Mr. Crucible, "and before we have had time to digest the last properly."
"I hope you will excuse my presence here gentlemen," said Mr. Hardcase, "for I have a case to attend to."