"
And he whispered something back to Dolly.
"It's awfully kind of you, Lady Mickleham," he said.
"I am a kind old thing," said Dolly, all over dimples. "I can
easily get to know them."
"Oh, you really are awfully kind, Lady Mickleham."
Dolly smiled upon him, waved her hand to me, and drove off,
crying--
"Do try to make Mr. Carter understand!"
We were left along. George wore a meditative smile. Presently
he roused himself to say:
"She's really a very kind woman. She's so sympathetic. She's
not like you. I expect she felt it once herself, you know."
"One can never tell," said I carelessly. "Perhaps she
did--once."
George fell to brooding again. I thought I would try an
experiment.
"Not altogether bad-looking, either, is she?" I asked, lighting a
cigarette.
George started.
"What? Oh, well, I don't know. I suppose some people might
think so."
He paused, and added, with a bashful, knowing smile--
"You can hardly expect me to go into raptures about her, can you,
old man?"
I turned my head away, but he caught me.
"Oh, you needn't smile in that infernally patronizing way," he
cried angrily.
"Upon my word, George," said I, "I don't know that I need."
THE VERY LATEST THING
"It's the very latest thing," said Lady Mickleham, standing by
the table in the smoking room, and holding an album in her hand.
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