"Not," continued this artless young person, "that we were glad when
we first heard you were coming--I mean except daddy. Mother said:
'Dear me! I fear he will expect a bathroom to himself!' And Dick
said: 'Is he as dirty as all that?' Even daddy laughed at that. And
Dick was so much pleased with himself that he got a bit above
himself, and went on to say that all Americans were 'bounders.' So
daddy stopped his 'sweet,' and he _did_ look silly! But it seems to
me you are just like other people, only rather '_droll_.'"
As we drew near the house she evidently began to think that, after
all, Dick might be an authority on "bounders," for she remarked, with
studied carelessness: "I shouldn't think it necessary to repeat at
home everything we have been talking about."
I gravely assured her that I made it a rule never to repeat the
conversation I had had with the young lady I took buggy-riding.
"Buggy-riding?" she cried; "what is that?"
"Why, what you call a fly, we call a buggy."
Her reaction was rather deliberate, but finally she exclaimed: "Oh, I
see. 'Bug' and 'fly.' That's awfully good. I must tell Dick that!"