MAURICE AND THE GIRL IN THE CAR.

THE Great Maurice, the well known French card manipulator, is a man of an impulsive and somewhat obstinate disposition. It was these characteristics which caused him to propose to the lady who is now his wife on the first occasion that he ever saw her.

Twelve years ago, he was walking through Leicester Square with the intention of calling on me to discuss some business affairs which we had in hand. As he was about to enter my office, he noticed a very smart limousine car that was drawn up to the curb just outside my front door. But what attracted his attention more than the car was the extremely pretty and well dressed girl who happened to be sitting at the wheel.

Nine men out of ten would have passed the girl by, for she appeared to be entirely wrapped in her own thoughts. But not so Maurice. He approached the car, and doffed his hat in the approved style.

"Good morning," he said.

"Er--good morning," replied the girl, not a little startled.

"It's a very nice morning," went on the conjurer, following up his advantage.

"Yes, beautiful."

"Excuse me if I say so, but you are a very nice girl."

"Am I really?"

"Yes. Perhaps you know me--my name is Maurice."

"I'm afraid I don't."

The conjurer produced a photograph and his professional card which the girl studied with obvious interest. This attention urged Maurice to further efforts.

"Are you in the profession?" he asked.

"Yes. I am an assistant with The Great Rameses."

"That's most interesting. By the way--are you married?"

"Oh, no."

"Do you think you would care to marry me?"

"I might."

"Tell me now, yes or no."

"Very well, I will."

Maurice could hardly believe his ears, and danced with joy on the pavement. "I must tell my friend Will Goldston!" he shouted, and rushed into my office, leaving his newly found fiancée still sitting in the car.

He told me his happy news, and added that he would expect me to attend his wedding breakfast. To this I agreed, thinking the whole affair was just a mad escapade. When Maurice left my office, still extremely happy and excited, I dismissed the matter from my thoughts.

A few months later, however, he burst in on me again.

"You're coming to my wedding breakfast now, Will," he said. You're the only one we have invited.

"I can't manage it to-day, Maurice," I told him. "I have a lot of urgent business on hand."

"But you must come. We must have just one guest, and we've selected you."

I pondered for a moment. "Where's the bride?" I asked.

"Downstairs in the car. We've only just been married. The breakfast won't take you long, and the little lady will be frightfully disappointed if you don't come."

Put to me in this light, I had no alternative but to agree, and I accompanied Maurice downstairs and offered my best wishes and congratulations to his wife.

Leaving the car by the curb, Maurice took me by the arm, and directed his footsteps towards the Lyons teashop which stands in Green Street. There he ordered three cups of tea and a plate of Dundee cake. Taking a slice of cake from the dish, he placed it on my plate, and smiled.

"There Will," he said. "That's our wedding breakfast. I told you it wouldn't take long!"