THE IRRIGATION AGE. 



185 



so I continued, ''You must have been 

 disappointed when you drove up tonight 

 to see me instead of Grace." 



''Grace," still with that puzzled air, 

 "Grace who?" 



Sure enough, ''Grace who?" I didn't 

 know her last name.'' "Why, the girl 

 you were to take driving tonight. She 

 didn't come, so Emma persuaded me to 

 come in her place. I'm a substitute. " 



"You are," he exclaimed laughing, 

 ''That's good, so am I." 



"Really?" 



"Why, yes, didn't you know it? I 

 thought you were disappointed in seeing 

 me instead of the gentleman you expected 

 and that was what made you so quiet . " 



"How did it happen," said T, wondering 

 if I heard aright. 



"As near as I can make out, it's like 

 this : McKinzie had agreed to bring some 

 friend with him in a double carriage for 

 Miss Emma and her friend Grace, I be- 

 lieve you call her and at the last moment 

 Mac received the cheerful news by tele- 

 phone that Mr. Whatever-his-name-is 

 couldn't come. The order for the double 

 carriage was countermanded and Mac sat 

 down to swear at his friend and think. 

 What to do he didn't know. There were 

 those two girls waiting for him and go he 

 must, but the thought of the despised 

 'third party' when two would be company 

 decided him to try and get a substitute 



for the faithless gallant. In his dilemma 

 he thought of me. I'm his friend, you 

 know, and what are friends for but to use? 

 So he jumped into his own carriage and 

 drove as if going for a doctor, arriving at 

 my place at half past seven. With tears 

 in his eyes he implored me to bring my 

 own rig and help him out. I felt sorry 

 for his distress and so consented. And 

 here I am a substitute for the 'friend who 

 never came. ' " 



"Both substitutes," I exclaimed, and 

 then Ave laughed heartily when we thought 

 of the trouble and worry Emma and Mr. 

 Kinzie had had in getting a substitute to 

 take a substitute, and our homeward drive 

 was a merry one, there being no lack of 

 conversation. 



Now I presume you expect me to tell 

 how Mr. Jones called to see me ; became 

 a friend and how friendship gradually 

 ripened into love and merry wedding bells 

 rang out. But I shall do nothing of the 

 kind, because they didn't ring. I know 

 that would be the proper ending to a story, 

 but I am nothing if not truthful, and 

 truth compels me to state that before an- 

 other week had passed, I had left the 

 boarding house (not because it was 

 cheaper to move than pay board, but for 

 equally good reasons) and I never saw 

 Mr. Jones again. At least not that Mr. 

 Jones. 



