“Nonsense!” said the Cousin, interrupting the Brookline Lamb’s sarcasm in regard to nerve cures. “Hasn’t he told you about the mob at Valladolid? Or about San Juan?” The flock gazed with unutterable reproach at the Goat, who sipped his tea with a critical frown, and observed, pleasantly:
“That happened to a friend of mine.”
The Lambs surrendered at discretion, and roared. The Cousin glanced at the Aunt, and they rose.
“We have had the most attractive time,” said the Cousin, prettily, as, suddenly sobered by this calamity, the Lambs protested in a body against her going. “It has been charming—and I am so interested in your experiment in altruism.” The Lambs collapsed under the ex cathedra nature of the smile she bestowed upon them, as she turned and held out a frank hand to the Goat. “I am glad you happened in,” she said. “I mailed a note to you this morning—you will doubtless get it to-night. Come and see us.”
“The Holland, isn’t it?” said the Goat, holding her hand, and then he made a short speech to her that sounded to the paralyzed Lambs like a Chinese laundry bill, but which evidently carried meaning to the Cousin, for she flushed and nodded. Then she turned back to the flock, who by this time, with touching unanimity, were showering devoted attentions on the Aunt. At the elevator they were all graciously dismissed except the Boston Lamb, who alone went down to put his relatives into their cab.
“Come and see us, all of you,” called the Cousin, cordially, as the car began to descend.
“How soon?” begged the Albany Lamb, anxiously.
“Any time, after to-night,” returned the Cousin, and was lowered from their sight.
Then with one accord they fell upon the Goat, and bore him into the apartment for condign punishment, regardless of his indignant assertions of his right as a citizen to a trial by a jury of his peers. When the Boston Lamb came leaping up the stairs to add his weight to the balancing of accounts, he found a riotous crowd.
“Just because my luggage was derailed and burned up out in the Kansas deserts,” the Goat was saying, “and I struck New York in a suit of hobo clothes from Topeka—oh, you fellows are easy marks!”