“Why?” he asked.
“Because you are so alike that some evening, in these dark corridors, I shall mistake Mr. Frazer for you.”
“That won’t be half bad,” laughed Robert.
Nellie blushed, and endeavoured to evade the consequences of her own remark.
“I meant,” she exclaimed, “that you would be sure to laugh at me if I treated you as Davie.”
“Not at all. I would consider it a cousinly duty to make you believe I was David, and not myself.”
“Then,” she cried, “I will guard against any possibility of error by treating both of you as Mr. Robert Hume-Frazer until I am quite sure.”
“Waiter!” said David, “where is the barber’s shop?”
Helen became redder than ever, but they enjoyed the joke at her expense. The waiter politely informed his questioner that the barber would not be on duty until the morning at 8 a.m.
“Then book the first chair for me!” said David.