Trotter laid himself out. He said "hawf-paast," and "fou-ah," and "Meddem," and "gehing," in a way that delighted her.
"I shall be going out at three o'clock, Trotter. Be on time. I insist on punctuality."
"Very good, madam," he said, and retreated in good order. She halted him at the door.
"Above all things you mustn't let any of these silly women make a fool of you, Trotter," she said, a troubled gleam in her eyes.
"I will do my best, madam," he assured her.
And that very afternoon she appeared in triumph at the home of her daughter-in-law (the young Mrs. Millidew) and invited that widowed siren to go out for a spin with her "behind the stunningest creature you ever laid your eyes on."
"Where did you get him?" inquired the beautiful daughter-in-law, later on, in a voice perfectly audible to the man at the wheel. "He's the best looking thing in town. Don't be surprised if I steal him inside of a week." She might as well have been at the zoo, discussing impervious captives.
"Now, don't try anything like that," cried Mrs. Millidew the elder, glaring fiercely.
"I like the way his hair kinks in the back,—and just above his ears," said the other. "And his skin is as smooth and as clear—"
"Is there any drive in particular you would like to take, madam?" broke in Trotter, turning in the seat.