“Agent in advance?” said Lady Anne, perplexed. “Yes. He's bound to boom the show somehow—so Jim Molyneux said, and he knew most things, did Jim.”
“You wicked republican!” cried her ladyship, hugging the child the closer to her.
“I'm not a republican,” protested Bud. “I'm truly Scotch, same as father was and Auntie Bell is—that's good enough for me. I'd just love to be a my lady myself, it must be so nice and—and fairy. Why, it's about the only fairy thing left anywhere, I guess.
“There's nothing really to it; it's not being richer nor powerfuller nor more tyrannical than anybody else, but it's—it's—it's—I dunno 'zactly what it is, but it's something—it—it's romantic, that's what it is, to be a king or a duke or a my lady. The fun of it is all inside you, like poetry. I hope, my lady Anne, you 'preciate your privileges! You must 'preciate your privileges always, Auntie Bell says, and praise the Lord without ceasing, and have a thankful heart.”
“I assure you I do,” replied her ladyship.
“That's right,” said Bud, encouragingly. “It's simply splendid to be a really lady with a big L without having to play it to yourself. I've been one as Winifred Wallace quite often; with Auntie Ailie's fur jacket and picture-hat on I'd sit and sit, and feel so composed and grand in the rocker, and let on it was Mr. Jones's carriage, and bow sweetly to Footles, who'd be a poor man passing to his work, and mighty proud to have me notice him. I'd be sort of haughty but not 'bominable haughty, cause Auntie Bell says there's nothing beats a humble and a contrite heart. But then, you see, something would happen to spoil everything: Kate would laugh, or Auntie Bell would pop in and cry: 'Mercy on me, child, play-acting again! Put away that jacket instantly.' Then I'd know I was only letting on to be a really lady; but with you it's different—all the time you're It. Auntie Bell says so, and she knows everything.”
“It really looks as if she did,” said her ladyship, “for I've called to see her to-day about a sailor.”
“A sailor!” Bud exclaimed, with wild surmise. “Yes. He wants to be captain of my yacht, and he refers me to Miss Dyce, for all the world as if he were a housemaid.”
“I'm so glad,” cried Bud, “for it was I who advised him to, and I'm—I'm the referee.”
“You?”