"My land! that's his hat, sure enough. I was wondering what made him
look so funny when he went out."
"Where has he gone?" came sharply over my shoulder.
"If you will wait," said the maid good-naturedly, "I will inquire."
We waited. So far as I was concerned, I hoped he was miles away, and
that we might go on riding for hours and hours. The maid returned soon.
"He has gone to meet the French consul at Mouquin's."
"Which one?" I asked. "There are two, one down and one up town."
"I'm sure I don't know. You can leave the hat and your card."
"Thank you; we shall retain the hat. If we find monsieur he will need
it."
"I'm sorry," said the maid sympathetically. "He's the worst man you ever
saw for forgetting things. Sometimes he goes right by the house and has
to walk back."
"I'm sorry to have bothered you," said I; and the only girl in the
world and myself re-entered the cab.
"This is terrible!" she murmured as we drove off.
"It might be worse," I replied, thinking of the probable long ride with
her: perhaps the last I should ever take!
"How could it be!"