“They didn’t think so,” retorted the Babe. “I took them in all right. Guess you’ve never had as much attention, all in one day.”
“Are you sure you took them in?” queried his sister.
“If you will come to the Club at eight o’clock this evening,” said the Babe, “I’ll prove it to you. Perhaps I’ll take you on to a theatre afterwards—if you’re good.”
The Babe himself walked into the Autolycus Club a few minutes before eight and encountered an atmosphere of restraint.
“Thought you were lost,” remarked Somerville coldly.
“Called away suddenly—very important business,” explained the Babe. “Awfully much obliged to all you fellows for all you have been doing for my sister. She’s just been telling me.”
“Don’t mention it,” said two or three.
“Awfully good of you, I’m sure,” persisted the Babe. “Don’t know what she would have done without you.”
A mere nothing, the Club assured him. The blushing modesty of the Autolycus Club at hearing of their own good deeds was touching. Left to themselves, they would have talked of quite other things. As a matter of fact, they tried to.
“Never heard her speak so enthusiastically of anyone as she does of you, Jack,” said the Babe, turning to Jack Herring.