To my amazement a curious and prolonged silence greeted this amazing tirade. The three at length were regarding each other almost furtively. Belknap-Jackson began to pace the floor in deep thought.
“After all, no one knows except ourselves,” he said in curiously hushed tones at last.
“Of course it’s one way out of a dreadful mess,” observed his wife.
“Colonel Marmaduke Ruggles of the British army,” said Mrs. Effie in a peculiar tone, as if she were trying over a song.
“It may indeed be the best way out of an impossible situation,” continued Belknap-Jackson musingly. “Otherwise we face a social upheaval that might leave us demoralized for years—say nothing of making us a laughingstock with the rabble. In fact, I see nothing else to be done.”
“Cousin Egbert would be sure to spoil it all again,” objected Mrs. Effie, glaring at him.
“No danger,” returned the other with his superior smile. “Being quite unable to realize what has happened, he will be equally unable to realize what is going to happen. We may speak before him as before a babe in arms; the amenities of the situation are forever beyond him.”
“I guess I always been able to hold up my head when I felt like it,” put in Cousin Egbert, now again both sullen and puzzled. Once more he threw out his encouragement to me: “Don’t let ‘em run any bluffs, Bill! They can’t touch you, and they know it.”
“‘Touch him,’” murmured Mrs. Belknap-Jackson with an able sneer. “My dear, what a trial he must have been to you. I never knew. He’s as bad as the mater, actually.”
“And such hopes I had of him in Paris,” replied Mrs. Effie, “when he was taking up Art and dressing for dinner and everything!”