question, still gazing at him. “They call them gigolos,” she said, slowly. Then, “Get that one Dad, will you, if you can? You dance with him first, Mother, and then I’ll — — ”

“I can get two,” volunteered Orson J.

“No,” said Mary Hubbell, sharply.

The nice-looking gigolo seemed to be in great demand, but Orson J. succeeded in capturing him after the third dance. It turned out to be a tango, and though Mrs. Hubbell, pretty well scared, declared that she didn’t know it and couldn’t dance it, the nice-looking gigolo assured her, through the medium of Mary’s interpretation, that Mrs. Hubbell had only to follow his guidance. It was quite simple. He did not seem to look