Mary, however, took this for mere natural politeness.
“Oh, you’ve brought them, I see. Do let me look.”
Now what was it, do you suppose, that she wanted to look at? Wait, if you please, until W. W. has cut the string of the parcel with a pocketknife that was given him by his Aunt Marian, contrary to the advice of his parents, about the time he wore his H. M. S. Indomitable.
Five hundred handbills were in the parcel, printed by the Brighthelmstone Steam Printing Company, Ltd. Mary seized eagerly the one that was solemnly presented to her by W. W., while Toddles, more demonstrative than he, grinned effusively from ear to ear.
Mary read the following:
GRAND FOOTBALL MATCH FOR THE BENEFIT
OF THE WIDOW AND FIVE CHILDREN
OF THE LATE JOE McPHERSON.
The Olympians v Brighton and Hove Albion.
The Honorable Philip Shelmerdine has arrived in
Brighton, and will positively reappear at inside
right this afternoon at 3:15.
“I think that will about fix it, Mrs. Shel,” said W. W. proudly. “We’ll have these distributed all over the place; and we’ve got some bigger ones, too, to go on the hoardings.”
But Philip, who at that moment was taking his fox terrier for a short constitutional, had seen the hoardings already. Thus, when he came in about five minutes later, bloodshed nearly ensued. A feeble jest, undoubtedly, but one of the penalties of athletic greatness. And when Mary insisted upon distributing with her own gloved hands these handbills to every passer-by along the King’s Parade, they came within hail of their first quarrel. To be sure, the majority of the recipients thought they were Votes for Women, and didn’t look at them, and those who did look at them treated them as of no importance, so it really didn’t matter; but poor Philip was made quite miserable—that is, almost miserable, since it was no longer possible for him to achieve that condition—and felt that it was really too bad of her to pull his leg in that way, for he was quite sure that she was the authoress of the plot.
Perhaps it was. Still, the jest was very feeble and harmless, and only modesty in its most exaggerated form could have been wounded by it. Not a soul in Brighthelmstone took the announcement of the Honorable Philip Shelmerdine’s arrival and positive reappearance that afternoon at all seriously.