Lady Mickleham rang the bell. I stooped for my hat. To tell the
truth, I was rather afraid to expose myself in such a defenseless
attitude, but the Countess preserved her self control. The
butler opened the door. I bowed, and left the Countess regarding
me through the maimed "starers." Then I found the butler
smiling. He probably knew the signs of the weather. I wouldn't
be Lady Mickleham's butler if you made me a duke.
As I walked home through the Park, I met Miss Dolly and
Mickleham. They stopped.
I walked on. Mickleham seized me by the coat tails.
"Do you mean to cut us?" he cried.
"Yes," said I.
"Why, what the deuce?--" he began.
"I've seen your mother," said I. "I wish, Mickleham, that when
you do happen to intrude as you did the other day, you wouldn't
repeat what you see."
"Lord!" he cried. "She's not heard of that. I only told Aunt
Cynthia."
I said something about "Aunt Cynthia."
"Does--does she know it all?" asked Miss Dolly.
"More than all--much more."
"Didn't you smooth it over?" said Miss Dolly reproachfully.
"On reflection," said I, "I don't know that I did--much." (I
hadn't, you know.)
Suddenly Mickleham burst out laughing.
"What a game!" he exclaimed.
"That's all very well for you," said Dolly.
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