“Will you believe, darling Mrs. Downe, that instead of answering, he sort of winked at me, and said, under his voice, ‘Good night, Caroline.’ I drew myself up, you may depend, and said coldly:
“Good evening, Mr. Boosey.”
He drew himself up too, and said:
“I called you Caroline, you called me Mr. Boosey.”
And then looking straight and severely at me, he actually winked again.
Then of course, I knew he was not responsible for his actions.
Ah me, what things we are! Just as I was leaving the room with Mrs. Gnu, who had matronized me, Mr. Boosey came up with such a soft, pleading look in his eyes that seemed to say, “please forgive me,” and put out his hand so humbly, and appeared so sorry and so afraid that I would not speak to him, that I really pitied him: but when, in his low, rich voice, he said:
“Nymph, in thy orisons be all my sins remembered!”—
I couldn’t hold out; wasn’t it pretty? So I put out my hand, and he shook it tenderly, and said “tomorrow” in a way—well, dear Mrs. Downe, I will be frank with you—that made me happy all night.
At this rate I shall never get to Paris. But the next day it was known everywhere we were going and everybody congratulated us. Our party met at the Bowling Alley, and we began to make all kinds of plans.