"Lady's hat? Lady's——"
His host looked him in the eye, placed a finger alongside his nose and winked roguishly.
"Lady's hat—for princess?"
"For the viscountess, sir."
"Dozen hats!" exclaimed his host warmly. "Dozen hats for viscountess. Back in a minute."
He rushed up-stairs at an alarming speed and Pete heard him charging around on the floor above. The gentleman had an unaccountable way of keeping his word almost to the letter. It was little more than a minute before he was back again, his arms full of hats and shoes. He dumped them all on the floor and bowed.
"All yours, prince."
Pete was not long in finding a pair of shoes that would stay on his feet, but the selection of a hat from among the fragile heap was a task that perplexed him. His difficulty was not ignored by his host, for the stout gentleman suddenly reached into the pile, yanked forth something that was broad brimmed and lacy and thrust it into his hands.
"There's hat for princess!" he exclaimed. "My compliments. Have a li'l drink?"
He hugged Pete's arm delightedly as he led the way back to the porch. The bottle and the siphon inspired him to confidences.