“I stormed the stage door, bullied the door-man, and waylaid her in the wings.  She thought I was you, dad.  Wharton is a grand old name.”  He chuckled at his father’s exclamation.  “She’s a good fellow, though, and I don’t blame the King of What’s-its-name.  Kings have to spend their money somewhere.  Maybe I can induce her to invest some of the royal dough in stocks and bonds.  The prospect dizzies me.”

“The crowd in your office would give you a banquet if you sold something,” Merkle told him.

Wharton, Senior, pressed for further information.  “Where did you learn those Argentine wiggles?”

“Hard times are to blame, dad.  The old men on the Exchange play golf all day, and the young ones turkey-trot all night.  I stay up late in the hope that I may find a quarter that some suburbanite has dropped.  It’s dangerous to drive an automobile through a dark street these days; one’s liable to run down a starving banker or an indigent broker with a piece of lead pipe and a mask.  You find it so, don’t you, Miss Knight?”

“I have no automobile,” said the girl.

“Strange.  Show business on the blink, too, eh?” The elder men rose and sauntered away in the direction of their host, whereupon Bob winked.

“They’ve left us flat.  Why?  Because the wicked Mlle. Demorest has finally made her appearance as a guest.  My dad is a splendid shock-absorber.  Naughty, naughty papa!”

“It’s probably well that you came with her; fathers are so indiscreet.”

Young Wharton signaled to a waiter who was passing with a wine-bottle in a napkin.

“Tarry!” he cried.  “Remove the shroud, please, and let me look at poor old Roderer.  Thanks.  How natural he tastes.”  Then to Lorelei:  “The governor is a woman-hater; but, just the same, I’m glad you drew Merkle instead of him to-night, or there’d surely be a scandal in the Wharton family.  No man is safe in range of your liquid orbs, Miss Knight, unless he has his marriage license sewed into his clothes.  Mother keeps hers framed.  Wouldn’t she enjoy reading the list of Hammon’s guests at this party?  ’Among those present were Mr. Hannibal C. Wharton, the well-known rolling-mill man; Miss Lorelei Knight, Principal First-Act Fairy of the Bergman Revue; and Mlle. Adoree Demorest, the friend of a king.  A good time was had by all, and the diners enjoyed themselves very nice.’” He laughed loudly, and the girl stirred.

“She’d be pleased to read also that you came late, but highly intoxicated.”

“Ah!  Salvation Nell.”  Bob took no offense.  “If the hour was late she’d know that my intoxication followed as a matter of course.  It always does, just as the dew succeeds the sunset, as the track follows the wheelbarrow, as the cracker pursues the cheese.  I am a derivative of alcohol, the one and infallible argument against temperance, Miss Knight.  In me you behold the shining example of all that puts the reformer to rout and gladdens the heart of the cafe-keeper.”