"Seems to me, Mrs. Leroy," he said at length, "that I'm in for a pretty thick time. Do you think she's at all likely to take to my present methods, or must I learn some new tricks? Afraid I'm not much of a lady's man. Still, Joey and I used to be great friends, once. Won't that count for something?"
"I'm not sure," said Mrs. Leroy. "You know how the young loathe being thought young, or reminded of their youth? Joey is just in that frame of mind at present. Because you were a boy of twenty-one when she was a child of twelve, she may darkly suspect you of desiring to continue on the footing of those days. Don't do that, for mercy's sake! For all practical purposes you are much nearer to each other in age than you were—"
A chuckle reverberated through the peaceful verandah, and the "Spectator" and "Sporting Life" converged for a moment as if to share a confidence.
"Jack," inquired Mrs. Leroy sternly, "what were you saying to Mr. D'Arcy just now?"
"Nothin', dear," said a meek voice.
"Mr. D'Arcy, what was he saying to you?"
Mr. D'Arcy took in a reef in the "Spectator" and replied suavely,—
"He made use of a sporting expression, dear lady, with regard to your plans for our friend Marrable's future, which I was happily unable to understand."
"Jack," said Mrs. Leroy in warning tones, "people who put their oar in uninvited get taken out for afternoon calls—in the brougham, with both windows up!"
The "Sporting Life" was promptly expanded to its full extent, and silence reigned again. Presently Mrs. Leroy observed cheerfully,—