"I thought I had made my meaning clear," I answered. "A banker——"
"I was not referring to bankers," she replied, "but to what you say about my aunt."
"I supposed she would have told you," I said. "She did me the honour of visiting me this afternoon, and—well—she suggested that there were conventionalities."
"She's been gossiping with my servant," she exclaimed; "but why do you pay any attention to what she says?"
"You see," I ventured to protest, "there are conventionalities."
"Conventionalities," she replied, firmly, "are some of the things that I do not intend to have in my life. If I were a man, and I wished to—to ask you a polite question about forged cheques, wouldn't you answer it?"
"'I HEAR YOU HAVE BEEN FORCING YOUR ATTENTIONS ON MY NIECE.'"
As a matter of fact, if a man had asked for instruction under pain of playing the piano, I think I should have refused; but to say no would have resulted in embarrassing explanations of my previous readiness to enlighten her. So I replied diplomatically—
"Perhaps so."