“Yes; I never saw you so polite to a woman before.”
“Didn’t you? Well, but she is in trouble, poor thing; and I say, hang it all, old man, how well she spoke out about her people—her children, and her wrongs.”
“Yes, it seems very hard, especially as I don’t think Harley will get instructions to interfere on her behalf.”
“Not interfere!” cried Chumbley. “Then it will be a damned shame. My dear old man, if we don’t get orders to dress that fellow down, I’ll go up and see her myself, and instead of tiger-hunting I’ll try if I can’t punch the blackguard’s head.”
“Why, Chumbley, old boy, what’s the matter with you!” cried Hilton, laughing.
“Matter? With me? Nothing at all.”
“But you seem all on fire to go and help the Princess.”
“Well, of course,” said the lieutenant, warmly; “and so I would any woman who was in distress. Why, hang it all, a fellow isn’t worth much who wouldn’t run some risks to protect a woman.”
“Hear! hear! Bravo! bravo! Why Chumbley, you improve.”
“Stuff! nonsense!” cried the latter, ashamed of his warmth.