Part 47

“I won’t stop the carriage,” said Dolly. “I’m going to take you home with me.”

“I am at a premium today,” I said sardonically.

“One must have something,” said Dolly. “How is your nose now, Mr. Carter?”

I looked at Dolly. I had better not have done that.

“Would afternoon tea hurt it?” she inquired anxiously.

“It would do it good,” said I decisively.

And that is absolutely the whole story. And what in the world Mrs. Hilary found to disapprove of I don’t know--especially as I didn’t tell her half of it! But she did disapprove. However, she looks very well when she disapproves.

THE HOUSE OPPOSITE

We were talking over the sad case of young Algy Groom; I was explaining to Mrs. Hilary exactly what had happened.

“His father gave him,” said I, “a hundred pounds, to keep him for three months in Paris while he learnt French.”

“And very liberal too,” said Mrs. Hilary.

“It depends where you dine,” said I. “However, that question did not arise, for Algy went to the Grand Prix the day after he arrived--”

“A horse race?” asked Mrs. Hilary with great contempt.

“Certainly the competitors are horses,” I rejoined. “And there he, most unfortunately, lost the whole sum, without learning any French to speak of.”

“How disgusting!” exclaimed Mrs. Hilary, and little Miss Phyllis gasped in horror.

“Oh, well,” said Hilary, with much bravery (as it struck me), “his father’s very well off.”

“That doesn’t make it a bit better, declared his wife.

“There’s no mortal sin in a little betting, my dear. Boys will be boys--”

“And even that,” I interposed, “wouldn’t matter if we could only prevent girls from being girls.”

Mrs. Hilary, taking no notice whatever of me, pronounced sentence. “He grossly deceived his father,” she said, and took up her embroidery.

“Most of us have grossly deceived our parents before now,” said I. “We should all have to confess to something of the sort.”

“I hope you’re speaking for your own sex,” observed Mrs. Hilary.

“Not more than yours,” said I. “You used to meet Hilary on the pier when your father wasn’t there--you told me so.”

“Father had authorized my acquaintance with Hilary.”

“I hate quibbles,” said I.

There was a pause. Mrs. Hilary stitched; Hilary observed that the day was fine.

“Now,” I pursued carelessly, “even Miss Phyllis here has been known to deceive her parents.”

“Oh, let the poor child alone, anyhow,” said Mrs. Hilary.