Miss Grace took the Rev. Mr. Elphinstone’s not very particularly ecclesiastical Harlequin cricket cap, and looked at it with some dubiety.
“But this is not his hat, James,” said she. “This is his Harlequin.”
“All the same,” said Carteret judicially. “Embodies much of his best thought. Look sharp and swear, Grace! It’s a great strain on us all, I can assure you, Doctor, even though you mightn’t think it. These moments of high emotion always are.”
Nobody laughed I am prepared to affirm. But before Miss Grace had the oath administered to her, she looked at the witnesses with a keenness that inconvenienced several of them rather considerably. She then proceeded to thoughtfully scratch her chin.
“James,” said she, in a perplexed tone, “don’t quite know, you know; not quite sure, you know, but—but I think you’re having me.”
“Rather think you’re having us,” said Archie. “Do be quick, Grace! As James says, you don’t know how difficult it is for us. Look at poor Toddles worrying the grass.”
“What an emotional little man it is!” said Captain George with rare sympathy. “And what a ghastly thing it must be to have such a high-strung nature.”
“I think you men are laughing at me,” said Miss Grace sternly.
“She cannot understand us,” said George. “How sad it is to be misunderstood!”
The poor soldier ended by diving suddenly and ignominiously for his handkerchief.