“Oh, no! But I have had ever so many other things to do this morning; this is a large establishment and the housekeeping—the making sure that there is sugar for the coffee and coffee for the sugar—takes a lot of time.”
“One has always the neighbours in case of shortage. If your abandonment of the Boston excursion is a painful topic, we will drop it. Besides, I know the real reason you didn’t go.”
“Is it possible? Then you ought to give mind-reading exhibitions. I’ve begged Fanny to teach me how to do table tipping; I’ve heard that she’s a wonder at it; and they say it runs in families.”
“Have you seen Fanny?”
“Why, no! I dare say she imagines I went away. The newspapers had it that I had gone, and of course they are always right.”
“Of course she will find it out; Fanny knows everything!”
“I hadn’t thought of telling her; it seemed to me that this was a fine chance to get a rest—to play at leading a very, very lonely life, not letting anyone know I am here by myself.”
“But that has lost its point, now that I am here. The king has gone a-hunting; the prince—if I may so honour myself—has come to defend the citadel. How do you like that way of putting it?”
“I don’t think I care for it. The citadel doesn’t need defending. When the king comes riding home he will find the drawbridge up and the water in the moat as quiet and peaceful as when he thundered forth to war.”
“But the lady in the tower—what of her?”