"And you might still be handing about the Rossetti éclairs in that smothery little place if I had not rescued you from your bondage. I assure you, Mr. Ames, that my niece is a perfectly healthy young woman, to whom all such rubbish is really abhorrent."
I expected Miss Cecilia to rouse at this; but she ignored her aunt's fling, saying merely,—
"There are times when I miss the Asolando."
"Mr. Ames," began Miss Octavia presently in her crisp, direct fashion, which had the effect of leading me, in my anxiety to appear ready with answers, to take a flattering view of my own courage and resourcefulness,—"Mr. Ames, are you equal to the feat of swimming a moat under a shattering fire from the castle?"
"I have every reason to think I am, Miss Hollister," I replied modestly.
"And if a white hand waved to you from the grilled window of the lonely tower, would you ride on indifferently or pause and thunder at the gate?"
"White hands have never waved to me, save occasionally when I have gone a-riding in the Sixth Avenue elevated, but it is my honest belief that my sword would promptly leave its scabbard if the hand ever waved from the ivied tower."
She nodded her pleasure in this avowal. For a chimney-doctor I was doing well. In fact, as I submitted to Miss Octavia's examination, I felt equal to charging a brigade single-handed. Something about the woman made it possible and pleasant to be absurd.
"If a king or an emperor of Europe should ask you to inspect his chimneys, would you be content to perform your service in the most expeditious and professional manner and depart with a nominal fee?"
"Decidedly not, Miss Hollister. On the other hand I should nurse the job for all it was worth, plunder the public treasury, explore the dungeons, make love to the princesses, and free the rightful heir to the throne from his cell beneath the bosom of the lake."