“Muffin’s mauve——” said Miss Perry.
“Answer me,” said Jim, sternly. “You can’t. You are a sorceress. You are a weaver of spells. Well, it so happens that I am susceptible to them. I am going to take a decisive step. Goose Girl, it is my intention to kiss you.”
Without further preface or ado Jim Lascelles stepped towards Miss Perry with extended arms and eyes of menace. He hugged her literally, new frock and all, in the open light of the morning; and further, he gave her one of the most resounding busses that was ever heard in that dignified apartment.
“Get rid of that if you are able,” said he, brazenly. “And now sit there, as good as pie, while I put that new gown upon canvas.”
Miss Perry did as she was told in a manner that rather implied that she approved decidedly of the whole proceedings.
“Goose Girl,” said Jim, attacking the canvas, “you will either make me or mar me. Sometimes I feel it might be the former, but more often I am convinced it will be the latter.”
“Muffin’s mauve cost a lot of money,” said Miss Perry.
“Paws down,” said Jim. “The question now for gods and men is, can that hair and that frock live together?”
Jim took up a little looking-glass and turned his back upon the canvas. He sighed with relief.
“Yes, they can by a miracle,” said he. “And yet they out-Gillet Gillet.”