"You should teach your little boy better manners," she said, "than to go shouting such names at the Maharajah of Bareilly."
"Yes, David," said Dodo with a glance that he completely understood. "Sit down at once, and don't be so rude, shouting names at people in the street. And was that really the Maharajah, ma'am?"
This very proper behaviour appeared to mollify the flat-fish.
"Dear me, yes," she said. "That's the Maharajah of Bareilly. And he's so good-natured, I'm sure he won't mind. He wears pearls valued at half a million sterling."
"Indeed!" said Dodo. "That would make you and me very good-natured too, wouldn't it?"
The flat-fish fingered a very brilliant cairngorm brooch, which she wore to great advantage at her throat, in case Dodo hadn't noticed it. (She had).
"So affable and pleasant too," said she. "Dear me, yes!"
"Oh, is he a friend of yours?" asked Dodo, thrillingly interested, with a side glance of approval at David, who was holding himself in, and biting his lips like a good boy.
"The dear Maharajah of Bareilly!" exclaimed the flat-fish, not quite committing herself. "Very full of engagements he is during his brief visits here. To-morrow he dines with the Marchioness of Chesterford. Lady Dodo, as her friends call her."
Dodo gave an awful jump as her name came out with such unexpectedness, but pretended to sneeze so promptly that the effect might easily have been confused with the cause.