At length Bradley emptied his pipe and laid it across his manuscript, at the same time rising nervously from his chair and sitting down on the bed for a change.
"Millard," he said, with a Bohemian freedom of address, "you must know more about society than I do. Give me advice on a point of etiquette."
Charley Millard was flattered as he never had been flattered before. He had not hoped to be considered an oracle so soon.
"You see," Bradley went on, "the publisher of a new magazine called the 'United States Monthly' has asked me to dinner. It is away over in Brooklyn, and, besides, the real reason I can't go is that I haven't got a dress-coat. Now what is the thing to do about regrets, cards, and so on?"
Fresh from reading his new "Guide to Good Manners," Millard felt competent to decide any question of Bristol-board, however weighty or complicated. He delivered his opinion with great assurance in the very words of the book.
"I believe in my soul," said Bradley, laughing, "that you prigged that from the 'Guide to Good Manners as Recognized in the Very Best Society.'"
Millard looked foolish, but answered good-naturedly, "Well, what if I did? Have you read the book?"
Bradley rocked his long slender body backward and forward as though about to fall into a spasm with suppressed merriment.
"There is only one good thing I can say for that book," he said, recovering himself.
"What's that?" asked Millard, a little vexed with the unaccountable mirth of his host.