In an instant a strange, belligerent little gentleman had sprung to his feet and was confronting her with features that resembled those of a magnified and outraged bumblebee.
“I am so sorry!” stammered Miss Lady in laughing chagrin, “I—I thought you were the Doctor!”
“Even so,” admitted the stranger rather firmly, standing with chin lifted and nostrils dilated, “even so. You seem to have forgotten the fact that Doctor Queerington is now a benedict!”
“Yes, but you don't understand. I am—”
“A friend of Constance' no doubt. But under the circumstances you will permit me to say that such conduct is ill-advised. I should not mention it were I not a friend of the family—”
“Oh! You are Mr. Gooch?”
“I am. And I have the pleasure of addressing—”
“Why, I'm Mrs. Queerington,” said Miss Lady, blushing furiously.
Mr. Gooch sank back into the chair and looked at her indignantly.
“Impossible!” he exploded. “They did not tell me—in fact I was not prepared—May I ask you not to mention my mistake to the girls? Constance, as you doubtless have discovered, is very silly, given to making great capital out of nothing. We will not mention it.”