“They all say so,” said the practical Simpson, “even when they haven’t twenty-five cents to bless themselves with. My advice may be needed, after all.”
Alphonso was rather disgusted by this caution, which seemed so derogatory to the character and position of a nobleman; but he, after some reflection, attributed it to Mr. Simpson’s disappointment in not himself enjoying the privilege of being invited to meet the count.
“Mr. Kidder,” he said to a fellow-clerk, “what do you think of my necktie?”
“It looks well enough—why?”
“I was wondering whether it would do to wear this evening.”
“What’s up this evening?”
“I am invited to meet the Count Ernest de Montmorency, as you will see by this note.”
“Strange Ingalls didn’t invite me,” said Kidder. “When did he pick up the count?”
“Really, Mr. Kidder, that is a singular way of speaking,—picking up the count,” protested Alphonso.
“I have no great respect for French counts,” said Kidder. “They don’t generally amount to much.”