“It is kind of you, indeed,” struck in the old lady, somewhat hurriedly, as though she feared the offer would be allowed to drop. “But the fact is the General never can bear to sit with his back to the light. And, if it is really all the same to you—”
“It is, I assure you. I am delighted to be of service. So I’ll mention the matter to the head waiter, and you may consider it settled.”
The girl was placed between her uncle and aunt. This change would result in Fordham being placed next to her. “What the deuce is the fellow driving at now?” thought Philip, in mingled wrath and alarm. Then it dawned upon him that his friend was driving at nothing less than the securing of that coveted position for him, Philip. “Good old Fordham! What a brick he is!” he mentally resolved, with a glow at his heart. “Best fellow that ever lived, by Jove?”
But the ice thus broken, our two friends and the new arrivals were soon chatting away as if they had known each other for at least some time.
“I noticed you on board the Mont Blanc this afternoon,” said Phil to the old General, with magnificent mendacity—the fact being that he was unaware of that veteran’s very existence. “But you didn’t land at Montreux, did you?”
“No. We went on to Territet. The ladies drove, with the luggage. I took the funicular railway up to Glion and walked the rest.”
“Don’t you think that Glion railway is very dangerous?” struck in Philip’s neighbour, seeing her opportunity.
“Oh, dear no. Perfectly safe, they tell me,” answered the old gentleman. “I daresay, though, it’s rather a trying affair for you ladies, finding yourselves let straight down the steep side of a mountain in a thing for all the world like a bucket in a well.”
“But don’t you think it may one of these days come to grief?” pursued the Infliction.
“But, my dear madam, just consider the number of times it has gone up and down in perfect safety.”