A Fool and His Money

by George Barr McCutcheon

"She won't be expecting you at seven, sir," he remarked. "And, as for that, she may be expecting to call on you, instead of the other way round."

"Right!" said I, considerably dashed.

"Besides, sir, would it not be safer to wait till the tourist party has come and gone?"

"No tourists enter this place to-morrow or any other day," I declared, firmly.

"Well, I'd suggest waiting just the same, sir," said he, evidently inspired.

"Confound them," I growled, somehow absorbing his presentiment.

He hesitated for a moment near the door.

"Will you put in the telephone, sir?" he asked, respectfully.

Very curiously, I was thinking of it at that instant.

"It really wouldn't be a bad idea, Britton," I said, startled into committing myself. "Save us a great deal of legging it over town and all that sort of thing, eh?"