“Yes, I remember now,” said Jim; “old boots and kitchen chairs were the only things you didn’t eat. I’ve had many a licking because the Goose Girl was so fond of apples.”
We are sorry to state that Miss Perry’s lips suffered an unmistakable twitch.
“Have you ever tasted cream buns, Jim?” said she.
“No,” said Jim; “we don’t get those refinements at Balham. But tell me, how is the Muffin Girl, and the Polly Girl, and the Milly Girl, and Dickie and Charley, and all the rest of the barbarian horde? And what is the Goose Girl doing so far away from Slocum Magna? How has she found her way into this superlative neighborhood?” The eye of Jim Lascelles was arrested by Miss Perry’s formal blue serge. “Governess, eh? How funny that the Goose Girl, with the brains of a bumble-bee, should be turned into a governess!”
“Oh no,” said Miss Perry. “Didn’t you know? I have come to live with Aunt Caroline.”
“Aunt who?”
“Aunt Caroline,” said Miss Perry.
“Then she must be one of the grand relations the Polly Girl used to boast about, that would never have nothing to do with the family of Slocum Magna.”
We hope and trust that neither Aunt Caroline nor Ponto overheard Jim Lascelles; in fact, there is every reason to believe that they did not, because had they done so, it is our firm belief that this history would have been over almost as soon as it had begun. Yet this was the indubitable moment that Ponto and his mistress chose to make their entrance into the blue drawing-room. The instant Jim Lascelles caught sight of the head-dress, the black silk, the ebony walking-stick, and the obese quadruped with gargoyle eyes, he checked his discourse and bowed in a very becoming manner.
“Aunt Caroline,” said Miss Perry, with a presence of mind which really did her the highest credit, “this is Mr. Lascelles, who has come to paint the picture.”