“I—I presume ...,� the young gentleman began, “I—I have the honor....�
“I am Mrs. Lovelace-Legge,� cried the charming widow, craning forward, “and where—oh, where is the baby?�
The young man turned pale. “The—the baby?�
“Haven’t you brought it?� cried all the ladies.
Tears welled up in Mrs. Lovelace-Legge’s lovely eyes.
“Don’t tell me it is dead!� she gasped. “Oh, if that were true, how could I break the news to Julia and General Carabyne?�
“Madam,� stammered the young gentleman, “I am the only son of General Carabyne—Dampierre Carabyne.� He blushed again. “People usually call me ‘Dumps,’� he said, and broke off as all six women screamed at once:
“You! You the baby!�
And the nurses flung their clean cambric aprons over their heads, and rushed in titters from the scene, as poor little Mrs. Lovelace-Legge went into screaming hysterics in the arms of her second-dearest friend.
“It is all a ridi—a ridiculous misunderstanding!� gasped Lady Cranberry, an hour later, as the recovered hostess, her friends, and her newly-arrived guest sat together in the drawing-room. “Let him see Mrs. Carabyne’s letter, Lotta. Perhaps he will be able to—— No! Better give it to me.� She mounted her gold eyeglasses upon her aquiline nose, and conned the Runic scroll a while. “We were misled,� she explained to the young man, “principally by a reference to your nurse.�