what, I did not dare ask, for I know what our diplomatic service is.
"In China," said Daisy.
"Choo Choo is the name of the city," added her father proudly; "it's the terminus of the new trans-Siberian railway."
"It's on the Yellow River," said Daisy.
"He's vice-consul," added the professor triumphantly.
"He'll make a good one," I observed. I knew Jack. I pitied his consul.
So we chatted on about my old playmate, until Freda, the red-cheeked maid, brought coffee, and the professor lighted a cigar, with a little bow to his daughter.
"Of course, you don't smoke," she said to me, with a glimmer of malice in her eyes.
"He mustn't," interposed the professor hastily; "it will make his hand tremble."
"No, it doesn't," said I, laughing; "but my hand will shake if I don't smoke. Are you going to employ me as a draughtsman?"
"You'll know to-morrow," he chuckled, with a mysterious smile at his daughter.—"Daisy, give him my best cigars; put the box here on the table. We can't afford to have his hand tremble."
Miss Holroyd rose, and crossed the hallway to her father's room, returning presently with a box of promising-looking cigars.
"I don't think he knows what is good for
