Part 33

“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.

“I wish it had been a little later still,” said I, for I felt embarrassed.

“You promise, on your honor, to be absolutely sincere, you know, and then you write what you think of me. See what a lot of opinions I’ve got already,” and she held up the thick album.

“It would be extremely interesting to read them,” I observed.

“Oh! but they’re quite confidential,” said Dolly. “That’s part of the fun.”

“I don’t appreciate that part,” said I.

“Perhaps you will when you’ve written yours,” suggested Lady Mickleham.

“Meanwhile, mayn’t I see the Dowager’s?”

“Well, I’ll show you a little bit of the Dowager’s. Look here: Our dear Dorothea is still perhaps just a thought wanting in seriousness, but the sense of her position is having a sobering effect.’”

“I hope not,” I exclaimed apprehensively. “Whose is this?”

“Archie’s.”

“May I see a bit--?”

“Not a bit,” said Dolly. “Archie’s is--is rather foolish, Mr. Carter.”

“So I suppose,” said I.