“‘You Americans are such bally jokers,’ the clerk said.  ’They really couldn’t have done that, you know.’

“‘But they have!  I still insist.’

“Then the Englishman went into a trance for a moment.  ’I believe you think they have a telephone, after all,’ he declared.

“‘I really do,’ I admitted.

“‘Well, we’ll soon find out,’ the clerk cried, with an awful burst of speed, striking a bell upon his desk.

“‘George,’ he said to the boy, ’run around to Crecy & Brown’s, will you, and see if they have a telephone.’

“I sat there for twenty minutes, discussing the weather, the Derby winner, and all the other favorite English subjects before the boy came back.

“‘Yes, sir,’ the boy reported, ’Crecy & Brown have a telephone, sir.  Their number is 485 Gerard, sir.’

“The clerk got me the number this time, and I did fairly well.  Then I sat down.

“‘Did you want to call another number?’ he asked me.

“‘No, not two in the same day,’ I said; ’but over in America we always pass out something to the operator when she gives us wrong information like that—­just for the good of the service.’

“‘I suppose I ought to reprimand her,’ the clerk admitted—­’call her down, as you would say.’

“‘If you don’t, I will,’ I told him.

“‘Oh, I had much better do it,’ he replied, hastily, taking the receiver in his hand.

“‘I say, miss,’ he chirped, ’that number you just gave me, 485 Gerard, is Crecy & Brown, you know, the one you said had no telephone.  Rather a good joke on you, isn’t it, miss?’ Then he slammed the receiver on its hook.

“‘There!’ he said, ’I think that will hold her for a while, as you say in your country!’

“Wouldn’t you think that would have just mortified her to death?”

Alice laughed.  “If you were ambassador to England, Allen, you could change all that.  Perhaps that’s the niche for you, after all.”

“What’s a ’niche’?” demanded Patricia, taking advantage of the first opportunity to join in the conversation.

“What do you think it is, dear?” Mrs. Gorham asked, smiling.

“I think an itch is an awful feeling; why do you want him to have that?” Patricia replied, sinking into obscurity at the laugh which her definition evoked.

Her father, who had been an interested listener thus far, came to her rescue, and took advantage of Alice’s remark to turn the conversation in the direction he had previously determined upon.

“You haven’t heard from your father recently, I judge?” he said.

“I have an idea that the pater has overlooked me,” Allen replied; “he’s been so busy with other things.”

“Why don’t you fall in with his ambition to make a diplomat of you?”

“Well—­I suppose the strongest reasons are those which I can’t put into words, Mr. Gorham, but one that seems pretty good to me is that I don’t think I’m fitted for it.”