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"And those who have been admitted to the enjoyment of her friends.h.i.+p are unanimous in discouraging all others from seeking a similar privilege."
"I beg your pardon?" cried Lady Mickleham.
"Are unanimous," I repeated, slowly and distinctly, "in discouraging all others from seeking a similar privilege."
Dolly looked at me, with her brow slightly puckered. I leant back, puffing at my cigarette. Presently--for there was quite a long pause--Dolly's lips curved.
"My mental powers are not despicable," she observed.
"I have said so," said I.
"I think I see," she remarked.
"Is there anything wrong?" I asked anxiously.
"N-no," said Dolly, "not exactly wrong. In fact, I rather think I like that last bit best. Still, don't you think--?"
She rose, came round the table, took up the pen, and put it back in my hand. "What's this for?" I asked.
"To correct the mistake," said Dolly.
"Do you really think so?" said I.
"I'm afraid so," said Dolly.
I took the pen and made a certain alteration. Dolly took up the alb.u.m.
"'Are unanimous,'" she read, "in encouraging all others to seek a similar privilege.' Yes, you meant that, you know, Mr. Carter."
"I suppose I must have," said I rather sulkily.
"The other was nonsense," urged Dolly.
"Oh, utter nonsense," said I.
"And you had to write the truth!"
"Yes, I had to write some of it."
"And nonsense can't be the truth, can it, Mr. Carter?"
"Of course it can't, Lady Mickleham."
"Where are you going, Mr. Carter?" she asked; for I rose from my chair.
"To have a quiet smoke," said I.
"Alone?" asked Dolly.
"Yes, alone," said I.
I walked towards the door. Dolly stood by the table fingering the alb.u.m.
I had almost reached the door; then I happened to look round.
"Mr. Carter!" said Dolly, as though a new idea had struck her.
"What is it, Lady Mickleham?"
"Well, you know, Mr. Carter, I--I shall try to forget that mistake of yours."
"You're very kind, Lady Mickleham."
"But," said Dolly with a troubled smile, "I--I'm quite afraid I shan't succeed, Mr. Carter."
After all, the smoking room is meant for smoking.
AN UNCOUNTED HOUR
We were standing, Lady Mickleham and I, at a door which led from the morning room to the terrace at The Towers. I was on a visit to the historic pile (by Vanbrugh--out of the money acc.u.mulated by the third Earl--Paymaster to the Forces--temp. Queen Anne). The morning room is a large room. Archie was somewhere in it. Lady Mickleham held a jar containing pate de foie gras; from time to time she dug a piece out with a fork and flung the morsel to a big retriever which was sitting on the terrace. The morning was fine, but cloudy. Lady Mickleham wore blue. The dog swallowed the pate with greediness.
"It's so bad for him," sighed she; "but the dear likes it so much."
"How human the creatures are," said I.
"Do you know," pursued Lady Mickleham, "that the Dowager says I'm extravagant. She thinks dogs ought not to be fed on pate de foie gras."
"Your extravagance," I observed, "is probably due to your having been brought up on a moderate income. I have felt the effect myself."
"Of course," said Dolly, "we are hit by the agricultural depression."
"The Carters also," I murmured, "are landed gentry."
"After all, I don't see much point in economy, do you, Mr. Carter?"
"Economy," I remarked, putting my hands in my pockets, "is going without something you do want in case you should, some day, want something which you probably won't want."
"Isn't that clever?" asked Dolly in an apprehensive tone.
"Oh, dear, no," I answered rea.s.suringly. "Anybody can do that--if they care to try, you know."
Dolly tossed a piece of pate to the retriever.
"I have made a discovery lately," I observed.
"What are you two talking about?" called Archie.