“All right, aunty, fire away.” And Sam’s eyes twinkled mischievously, as his hands fell by his side.
“In order that the house of Harris shall not be defamed through an act of discourtesy to one of its guests, I insist, first of all, that you give me an example of your expression of gratitude to his Lordship for his great humanitarian act and kindness to you in your hour of insensibility.”
“Ea—ah! Eh!” ejaculated Sam in laughing surprise, but much as he disliked to comply, he felt there was no use trying to dodge the issue.
His aunt was determined and experience had taught him that in order to retain the indulgence of the “best and fondest aunt on earth,” a discreet concurrence in her whims was imperative. So with an agreeable smile, he added, “All right, aunty, here goes.”
“For the purpose of approach, you may address me as ‘my lord,’” interjected Mrs. Harris.
“Ha! That’s easier, aunty,” and a smile of satisfaction spread over his face.
“Proceed!” exclaimed his aunt, sententiously.
“I beg to express to your lordship”—
“Sam!” said Mrs. Harris, interrupting him, “you have omitted the very pith and essence of initiatory greeting.”
“Ea—ha! How?” exclaimed Sam, surprised.