"Yes, I will go with pleasure!" she said. So off they started, the cheerfullest three in New York that morning. Busy men, hurrying down-town to their business, turned to look back at them, and felt the load of care lightened a little just by the knowledge that there were three people who had no care, and were going to enjoy themselves somewhere. Hugh walked in the middle, holding a hand of each friend, chattering away, and looking up from one to the other with clear, joyful looks that made the whole street brighter. The Colonel was in high feather; flourishing his stick, he strode along, pointing out the various objects of interest on the way. He paused before a mercer's window, filled with shimmering silks and satins.
"Now here," he said, "is frippery of a superior description; frippery enough to delight the hearts of a dozen women."
"Possibly of two dozen, dear sir," put in Hildegarde; "consider the number of yards in all those shining folds."
"Hum! ha! precisely!" said the Colonel. "Now, Hildegarde, you have some taste in dress, I believe; you appear to me to be a well-dressed young woman. Now, I say, what seems to you the handsomest gown in all this folderol, hey? the handsomest, mind you?"
"'Said the Kangaroo to the Duck, this requires a little reflection!'" Hildegarde quoted.
"Perhaps, on the whole, that splendid purple velvet; don't you think so, Colonel Ferrers?"
"Hum!" said the Colonel. "Ha! possibly; but—ha! hum! that—I may be wrong, Hildegarde—but that seems to me hardly suited to a young person, hey? More a gown for a dowager, it strikes me? I may be wrong, of course."
"Not in the least wrong, dear sir," said Hilda, laughing. "But you said nothing about a young person. You said 'the handsomest.'"
"Precisely," said the Colonel again. "And after all, a gown is a temporary thing, Hugh. Now, a bit of jewelry—but now, Hildegarde, I put it to you, if you were going to choose a gown for Elizabeth Beadle, for example; suppose Hugh and I were going to take a present home to Elizabeth Beadle; there's no better woman of her station in the mortal universe, sir, I don't care who the second may be. What do you think suitable, hey?"
"Oh, Guardian!" and "Oh, Colonel Ferrers!" cried Hugh and Hildegarde, in a breath. "How delightful!"