"But which one are we going to discard if they both claim to be the
genuine Mrs. R.? Hadn't we better wait for Teddy? He'd be almost sure to
be able to decide."

"You make me tired. It's got to be settled before he comes back."

It was a brace of dejected subalterns that wended their way to 10 _bis_,
Rue Dufay. Percival knocked at the door of the drawing-room and in
response to an invitation they entered. A pretty and extremely composed
young lady greeted them.

"_My_ wife!" said Percival and Frederick simultaneously.

"Excuse me," said the lady with dignity; "the only husband I possess at
present is Mr. Roker."

"What I mean to say is," explained Percival lamely, "that you are the
wife of Mr. Roker that I met at the Customs--I mean, Mr. Roker's wife
that--"

"Me too!" broke in Frederick.

"Well, that's easily explained," said the lady, addressing Percival.
"After you had kindly escorted me here I suddenly remembered that I had
left my keys at the Customs House. Feeling confident of finding my way
about I returned for them. On emerging I was claimed by your fascinating
friend who is at this moment engaged in winding up his monocle
[Frederick guiltily stowed it away in his fob pocket]. He seemed so
delighted at having discovered me that I hadn't the heart to explain