“Bai-ey Je-ove! Two middle-aged ladies; one dwessed in hawf-mawning?—”
“Nonsense, Horner!” said I, interrupting him; “what a mess you are making of it! I said one lady was middle-aged; and both dressed in half-mourning.”
“Weally, now? No, Lorton, ’pon honah; didn’t see ’em, I asshaw you. Was it Baby Blake and her moth-ah, now, ah?” and he smiled complacently, as if he had given me a fund of information.
“Baby Blake!” I ejaculated in disgust—“why, Horner, you’re quite absurd. Do you take me for a fool? I think I ought to know Baby Blake as well as yourself by this time, my Solon!”
“Yaas; but, my deah fellah, I don’t know who you know, you know. Bai-ey Je-ove! there’s Lizzie Dangler. Who’s that man she’s got in tow, ah?”
“Hang Lizzie Dangler!” I exclaimed, impatiently. “Can’t you answer a question for once in your life—did you see them, or not?”
“Weally, Lorton,” said he, in quite an imploring way, “you needn’t get angwy with a fellah, because he can’t tell you what you want to know, you know! It’s weally too hot for that sawt of thing. I didn’t see them, I tell you. I can’t say mo-ah than that, can I? You mustn’t expect a fellah to see evwybody. Why, it’s seem-plee impawsible!”
His languid drawl exasperated me.
“Oh, bother!” I muttered, sotto voce, but loud enough for him to hear; and turned away from him angrily, leaving him still standing in his pet attitude, taking mental stock of all the fast-looking fair ones who might come under his notice. “Oh, bother?” I am not prepared to assert positively that I did not use a much stronger expletive. He ought to have seen them! What the deuce was the use of his sticking star-gazing there, unless to observe people, I should like to know?
Just fancy, too, his comparing my last madonna, the image and eidolon of whose witching face filled my heart, to that odious little flirt, Baby Blake, a young damsel that hawked her tender affections about at the beck and call of every male biped who might for the moment be enthralled by her charms! It was like his cool impudence. And then, again, his asking me his stupid, inane questions, as if I cared what man, and how many. Lizzie Dangler or any other girl might have “in tow,” as he called it. Idiot! I declare to you I positively hated Horner at that moment, inoffensive and harmless as he was.