"Madam, there was a time"--I began.
"Oh, yes; thirty years ago I might have claimed the slipper; I might
even have worn it,"--complacently.
"Permit me to conclude: there was a time when you held me on your
knees."
"What?"
"It is indeed so."
"Confess, then, that you were properly spanked.... Heavens and earth,
wherever did you come from?" she exclaimed suddenly. "Sit down beside me
instantly!" And she called me by name.
It was the third time I had heard it that night. I had heard it so
infrequently that I liked the sound of it.
"And it is really you?" pushing me off at arm's length the better to
observe the changes that had taken place. "You grow more like your
father; if you hadn't that beard you would be the exact picture of your
father when he married your mother. Oh, what a pretty wedding it was!"
"I shall have to take your word for it. I was up and about, however, at
the tin anniversary."
"I remember. Oh, but what a racket you made among the pans!" She laughed
softly at the recollection.
"I was properly spanked that night," I admitted.
And straightway we uncovered thirty and twenty years respectively.
"By the way," said I carelessly, "is Nancy Marsden engaged to be
married?"
"Nancy? She never will be, to my idea. She recently turned down a real
duke: a duke that had money and everything."
"And everything: is that castles?" I inquired.
"Nonsense!"
"Well, between you and me and the gatepost, Miss Nancy will be engaged
within two months."
"No!"--excitedly.
"It is written."
"And to whom, pray?"
"It's the woman's place to announce an engagement. But I know the man."
"He is worthy?"
"Oh, as men go."
Then the water-clock in the fountain struck twelve, and I sprang up.
"Mercy, I'll never find any Cinderella at this rate. All is lost if she
escapes me."