"Just a minute ago," the clerk replied, and was surprised at the
disappointment his answer caused.

"I must see him," cried the old gentleman. "You needn't announce me.
I'll go right up. I'm his wife's uncle, and she telephoned me to come."

"Front!" called the clerk. "This gentleman to 450."

At the door of 450 he dismissed his guide with suitable _largesse_, and
softly entered the room. It was brightly illuminated, and Uncle Richard
was able clearly to contemplate his nephew of eight hours in animated
converse with a handsome woman in evening dress.

"I think, sir," said the woman, "that there is some mistake."

"I agree with you, madam," said Uncle Richard, "and I'm sorry for it."

"But you are exactly the man to help us," cried the nephew; "we are in
an awful state."

"I agree with you, sir," repeated Uncle Richard.

"You _must_ know how to help us," urged the nephew. "I've lost
Marjorie."

"So I should have inferred. But she had already thrown herself away."

"She's _lost_!" stormed the bridegroom. "Don't you understand? Lost,
lost, lost!"