"It was necessary for me to bribe all of your servants, Mr. Smart," she said.
"You did not offer the rascals money, I hope," I said in a horrified tone.
"No, indeed!" She did not explain any farther than that, but somehow I knew that money isn't everything to a servant after all. "I hope you don't mind my borrowing your butler and footman for the evening," she went on. "Not that we really need two to serve two, but it seems so much more like a function, as the newspapers would call it."
It was my turn to say "No, indeed."
"And now you must come in and kiss Rosemary good night," she said, glancing at my great Amsterdam clock in the corner.
We went into the nursery. It was past Rosemary's bedtime by nearly an hour and the youngster was having great difficulty in keeping awake. She managed to put her arms around my neck when I took her up from the bed, all tucked away in her warm little nightie, and sleepily presented her own little throat for me to kiss, that particular spot being where the honey came from in her dispensation of sweets.
I was full of exuberance. An irresistible impulse to do a jig seized upon me. To my own intense amazement, and to Blake's horror, I began to dance about the room like a clumsy kangaroo. Rosemary shrieked delightedly into my ear and I danced the harder for that. The Countess, recovering from her surprise, cried out in laughter and began to clap time with her hands. Blake forgot herself and sat down rather heavily on the edge of the bed. I think the poor woman's knees gave way under her.
"Hurrah!" I shouted to Rosemary, but looking directly at the Countess. "We're celebrating!"
Whereupon the girl that was left in the Countess rose to the occasion and she pirouetted with graceful abandon before me, in amazing contrast to my jumping-jack efforts. Only Blake's reserved and somewhat dampening admonition brought me to my senses.
"Please don't drop the child, Mr. Smart," she said. I had the great satisfaction of hearing Rosemary cry when I delivered her up to Blake and started to slink out of the room in the wake of my warm-cheeked hostess. "You would be a wonderful father, sir," said Blake, relenting a little.