"Oh," said I, rather more crestfallen than relieved.
"Would you like to hold her, Mr. Smart? She's such a darling to hold."
"No—no, thank you," I cried, backing off.
"Oh, you will come to it, never fear," she said gaily, as she restored Rosemary to the nurse's arms. "Won't he, Blake?"
"He will, my lady," said Blake with conviction. I noticed this time that Blake's smile wasn't half bad.
At that instant Jinko, the chow, pushed the door open with his black nose and strolled imposingly into the room. He proceeded to treat me in the most cavalier fashion by bristling and growling.
The Countess opened her eyes very wide.
"Dear me," she sighed, "you must be very like the Count, after all. Jinko never growls at any one but him."
At dinner that evening I asked Poopendyke point blank if he could call to mind a marriage in New York society that might fit the principals in this puzzling case.