“Ran against a lamp-post,” replied the mutilated Twin.
This simple explanation caused much merriment, for every one chose to believe that Abel had been intoxicated at the time, and as Abel himself joined in the laugh, it was easy to see that if that had been the cause of the accident, neither he nor any one else would be greatly ashamed of it.
“What would Jack think?” I could not help saying to myself.
Hawkesbury walked over to where I was and shook hands. “I’m glad you’ve come,” said he, sweetly smiling; “I was afraid you would be prevented.”
“No, I’d nothing to prevent me,” replied I, colouring up.
“I fancied you would prefer staying with your friend Smith, or that he might not like you to come.”
“Smith is working late at the office to-night,” I replied, shortly.
“Now you fellows!” cried Doubleday, “if you want any grub, sit down. Batch, old man, will you take that end of the table? you’re used to lobsters, I know.”
Once more I blushed to the roots of my hair, as I obeyed in as unconcerned a manner as I could.
“What’s the joke about the lobster?” asked Hawkesbury, innocently.