"Thank you, I shall be very happy."
"Then good-by for the present, I am engaged to lunch to meet one of the prettiest little widows you ever saw in your life, but she has no cash. Here, hansom," calling to the driver of a cab which was passing slowly. "I am a little late." He jumped in and drove off.
His friend, with a slight grave smile, continued his walk to the Alexandria Hotel, the portals of which received him.
Meantime the hero of the cab incident sat very demurely by his young aunt, as the omnibus rolled slowly up Park Lane, occasionally stealing inquisitive glances at her face.
"You have been a very naughty boy, Cecil!" she exclaimed as her eyes met his. "How could I have gone home to mamma if I had been obliged to leave you behind?"
"But you needn't, you know; you could have tied me up in a bundle and taken me back. Mamma would have known it wasn't your fault."
"I am not so sure of that, and you have made poor Charlie cry,"—drawing the younger boy to her side.
"Charlie is just a baby," contemptuously.
"He is a better boy than you are." Silence.