“I don’t think,” said I, “that it would be proper.”
“Why, Archie suggested it! You’re making an excuse. You know you are!”
and Lady Mickleham looked very indignant. “As if,” she added scornfully,
“you cared about what was proper!”
I dropped into a chair, and said, in a confidential tone, “I don’t care
a pin. It was a mere excuse. I don’t want to come.”
“You’re very rude, indeed. Many women would never speak to you again.”
“They would,” said I, “all do just as you will.”
“And what’s that, Mr. Carter.”
“Ask me again on the first opportunity.”
“Why won’t you come?” said Dolly, waiving this question.
I bent forward, holding my hat in my left hand and sawing the air with
my right forefinger.
“You fail to allow,” said I impressively, “for the rejuvenescence which
recent events have produced in me. If I came with you this evening, I
should be quite capable--” I paused.
“Of anything dreadful?” asked Dolly.
“Of paying you pronounced attentions,” said I gravely.
“That,” said Dolly with equal gravity, “would be very regrettable. It
would be unjust to me--and very insulting to her, Mr. Carter.”
“It would be the finest testimonial to her,” I cried.
“And you’ll spend the evening thinking of her?” asked Dolly.
“I shall go through the evening,” said I, “in the best way I can.” And I
smiled contentedly.
“What’s her husband?” asked Dolly suddenly.
“Her husband,” I rejoined, “is nothing at all.”
Dolly, receiving this answer, looked at me with a pathetic air.
“It’s not quite fair,” she observed. “Do you know what I’m thinking
about, Mr. Carter?”
“Certainly I do, Lady Mickleham. You are thinking that you would like to
meet me for the first time.”
“Not at all. I was thinking that it would be amusing if you met me for
the first time.”
I said nothing. Dolly rose and walked to the window. She swung the
tassel of the blind and it bumped against the window. The failing sun
caught her ruddy brown hair. There were curls on her forehead, too.
“It’s a grand world,” said I. “And, after all, one can grow old very
gradually.”
“You’re not really old,” said Dolly, with the fleetest glance at me. A
glance should not be over-long.
“Gradually and disgracefully,” I murmured.
“If you met me for the first time--” said Dolly, swinging the tassel.
“By Heaven, it should be the last!” I cried, and I rose to my feet.
Dolly let the tassel go, and made me a very pretty curtsey.
“I am going to another party tonight,” said I, nodding my head
significantly.
“Ah!” said Dolly.
“And I shall again,” I pursued, “spend my time with the prettiest woman
in the room.”
“Shall you?” asked Dolly, smiling.
“I am a very fortunate fellow,” I observed. “And as for Mrs. Hilary, she
may say what she likes.”
“Oh, does Mrs. Hilary know the Other Lady?”