"But, Aunty," protests Vee, "you know Torchy is a private secretary now and understands all about such things. Besides, he knows such heaps of important business men who——"
"If he can bring them here Wednesday afternoon, very well," says Aunty; "but I have my doubts that he can."
"What's the game?" says I.
"It is not a game at all, young man," says Aunty. "Our project, if that is what you mean, is to have a studio tea for Mr. Djickyns and to secure the attendance of as many purchasers for his works as possible. Have you any suggestions?"
"Why," says I, "not right off the bat. Maybe if I could chew over the proposition awhile, I might——"
"Oh, I say," breaks in the noble young gent on the stepladder, "I—I'm getting dizzy up here, you know. I—I'm feeling rather——"
"Mercy!" squeals Marjorie. "He's fainting!"
"I GATHERS HIM IN ON THE FLY."