“I was hopin’ you’d dance two or three times with me. I know I’m a hod-carrier, but you’ll own that I’ve improved quite a bit since you took me in hand.”
Miss Du Rance did own that. But there was certainly room for improvement in Bill’s form on the parquet, even if she was too kind to say so. Besides, she really liked the boy. There was that about him no girl could help liking. He was so open, so genuine, so manly.
“If you’re not there it’ll be most disappointing.”
“There’ll be Miss Childwick to console you,” jumped to the tip of Mame’s tongue. Happily she was able to keep it from slipping off.
The abrupt and sharp thought of Miss Three Ply Flannelette of the glorious yet supercilious eyes somehow gave Mame a jolt. And that was exactly what she needed. It lent her a punch. The memory of Miss Three Ply Flannelette pulled her together as nothing else could have done.
Even if she had just had a heavy blow, she must not think of giving in. All was not lost yet, whatever line Lady Violet might adopt towards her. There was something about Bill’s manner that had set her agile and enterprising mind to work.
A week or so ago Lady Violet had been good enough to throw out a sort of gentle hint that little cats were not allowed to look at a certain Canary. There were other nice birds in the aviary. In fact at this season of the year the place was swarming with ’em good and plenty. The little Puss in question could take her pick, always provided she was clever enough to catch one. But let her please remember that a certain Canary was not on the menu.
Yes, that was all very well; but circumstances have a knack of altering cases. The heart of Puss began to harden at the thought. Such a simple, harmless, pretty bird! And actually perching, mark you, on one of her velvet forepaws.
The clocks of the neighbourhood chimed two.
“How the time does fly,” Bill observed.