"I think you've forgotten to introduce me to Colonel Darcy, Miss Fitzgerald," suggested Stanley.
"Dear me, I believe I have," replied that lady, calmly. "Bob, this is Jimsy; Jimsy, this is Bob—that'll do for the present. I'll tell you the rest of his names, titles and appurtenances when I've more time and less to talk about. So now we are friends and have no secrets from each other, therefore out with yours."
Darcy laughed.
"You see, Jimsy," continued Miss Fitzgerald, turning to the Secretary, "though I'm young and ignorant, men have always come to me for advice, or, perhaps, for the use of my intuition."
"I'm sure I trust Colonel Darcy will profit by it; but even our well-established friendship gives me no right to play third party to his confidences, and as I promised Kingsland a game of pool——"
"Ah, but you mustn't go; really you mustn't," expostulated the Colonel, "or you'll make me feel I've intruded."
Stanley felt that it was not his fault if that officer did not already possess those sentiments, and was about to stand to his decision, when Miss Fitzgerald pulled him down beside her, saying:
"Don't talk nonsense, Jimsy. I'm dying to hear Bob's secrets, and he's been here five minutes already, and we haven't allowed him to get a word in edgewise."
Thus admonished, the Secretary had no choice but to be an unwilling listener.
"I'm sure I don't know why I should dignify my affairs by the name of secrets," began Darcy, with ill-attempted nonchalance, "or why I should be reticent about speaking of them, either. It's more than the Press will be in the next few days," and he laughed harshly.