Part 25

“To sacrifice me, Mr. Carter?”

“Of course,” I explained; “if I dropped you, Mrs. Hilary would let me come again.”

“How charming that would be!” cried Dolly. “You would enjoy her nice serious conversation--all about Hilary!”

“She is apt,” I conceded, “to touch on Hilary. But she is very picturesque.”

“Oh, yes, she’s handsome,” said Dolly.

There was a pause. Then Dolly said, “Well?”

“Well?” said I in return.

“It is goodbye?” asked Dolly, drawing down the corners of her mouth.

“It comes to this,” I remarked. “Supposing I forgive you--”

“As if it was my fault?”

“And risk Mrs. Hilary’s wrath--did you speak?”

“No; I laughed, Mr. Carter.”

“What shall I get out of it?”

The sun was shining brightly; it shone on Dolly; she had raised her parasol, but she blinked a little beneath it. She was smiling slightly still, and the dimple stuck to its post--like a sentinel, ready to rouse the rest from their brief repose. Dolly lay back in the victoria, nestling luxuriously against the soft cushions. She turned her eyes for a moment on me.

“Why are you looking at me?” she asked.

“Because,” said I, “there is nothing better to look at.”

“Do you like doing it?” asked Dolly.

“It is a privilege,” said I politely.

“Well, then!” said Dolly.

“But,” I ventured to observe, “it’s rather an expensive one.”

“Then you mustn’t have it very often.”

“And it is shared by so many people.”

“Then,” said Dolly, smiling indulgently, “you must have it--a little oftener. Home, Roberts, please.”

I am not yet allowed at Mrs. Hilary Musgrave’s.

A VERY DULL AFFAIR

“To hear you talk,” remarked Mrs. Hilary Musgrave--and, if any one is surprised to find me at her house, I can only say that Hilary, when he asked me to take a pot-luck, was quite ignorant of any ground of difference between his wife and myself, and that Mrs. Hilary could not very well eject me on my arrival in evening dress at ten minutes to eight--“to hear you talk one would think that there was no such thing as real love.”

She paused. I smiled.

“Now,” she continued, turning a fine, but scornful eye upon me, “I have never cared for any man in the world except my husband.”