her collar-bones continued to remain a mystery to Galvin House.
The dinner-gong found everyone anxious and prepared. All had a vision of Bowen sitting judgment upon them and mentally comparing Galvin House with Park Lane; for in Bayswater Park Lane is the pinnacle of culture and social splendour.
A few minutes after the last strain of the gong, pounded by Gustave in a manner worthy of the occasion, had subsided, Miss Sikkum crept out from her room feeling very "undressed." The sight of Mr. Sefton nearly drove her back precipitately to the maiden fastness of her chamber. "Was she really too undressed?" she asked herself.
Slowly the guests descended, each anxious to precede to others the pride of place, all absorbed with his or her particular tragedy. By the aid of pins Mr. Cordal had overcome his likeness to a pigeon, but he had not allowed for movement, which tore the pins from their hold, allowing his shirt-front to balloon out joyfully before him, for the rest of the evening obscuring his boots.
Miss Wangle looked at Miss Sikkum and mentally thanked Heaven and the bishop that she had restrained her abandoned impulse to remove the black lace from her own neck.
Mr. Bolton's attention was concentrated upon the centre stud of his shirt. The button-hole was too large, and the head of the stud insisted on disappearing in a most coquettish and embarrassing
