After a full half-hour of earnest cogitation, I make up my mind to a grand purpose, and, stealing downstairs, move rather sneakily to Marmaduke's study. I devoutly trust he will be alone, and as I open the door I find I have my wish.
He is busily writing; but, as he is never too busy to attend to me, he lays down his pen and smiles kindly as he sees me.
"Come in, little woman. What am I to do for you?"
"Marmaduke," I say, nervously, "I have come to ask you a great favor."
"That is something refreshingly now. Do you know it will be the first favor you have asked of me, though we have been married more than three months? Say on and I swear it shall be yours, whatever it is—to the half of my kingdom."
"You are quite sure you will not think it queer of me, or—or shabby?"
"Quite certain."
"Well, then"—with an effort—"for this ball, I think, Marmaduke, I would like a new dress; may I send to London for it?"
When I have said it it seems to me so disgracefully soon to ask for new clothes that I blush crimson, and am to the last degree shamefaced.
Marmaduke laughs heartily.