He did not, however, take it; yet he evidently did not know what to do instead.
“Then you know Mr. Fisher?” said Kate.
“We have met,” I replied, “and we could give you some entertaining reminiscences of our meeting. Could we not, Mr. Fisher?”
“What are you doing here?” said Fisher, slowly.
“Atoning for the errors of a profligate youth,” I replied, “and assisting in the education and advancement of woman.”
For some reason he did not appear to take this statement quite seriously. In England, when you tell the truth it must be told with a solemn countenance; no expression in the face, nothing but a simple yet sufficient movement of the jaws, as though you were masticating a real turtle. A smile, a relieving touch of lightness in your words, and you are instantly set down as an irreverent jester.
“Miss Kerry,” he said, sententiously, “I warn you against this person.”
“But—why?” exclaimed the astonished Kate.
“I say no more. I warn you,” said Mr. Fisher, with a dull glance at me.
“Come, now,” I said, pleasantly, for I recollected that the mission depended on this monster's good-humor, “let us bury the pick-axe, as you would say. The truth is, Miss Kerry, that Mr. Fisher and I once had a merry evening together, but, unluckily, towards midnight we fell out about some trifle; it matters not what; some matter of gallantry that sometimes for a moment separates friends. She preferred him; but I bear no grudge. That is all, is it not, Fisher?”