We trudged home.
As we came up the steps the door opened, and a great man seemed to fall on Mumsie. “Here I am again, Auntie, to bother you and shock your friends over Christmas!”
Mumsie beamed more than ever.
“Elsie, this is Jack, Mr. Bang! Jack, this is Miss Travers.”
“Hullo, Little Partner,” he cried. That was his greeting. Familiar I call it. He grasped my hand in his great paw. “I’ve heard of you and your father: I judge you are in town on a bit of a spree,” and Mr. Bang grinned.
Perhaps my surprise at this remark showed in my face, for he remarked: “There is more than one kind of intoxication, you know,” whereat Mumsie gave him a loving tap on the shoulder, and said,
“Don’t begin lecturing her too soon, Jack,” and turning to me, “Elsie, don’t take what he may say to you too seriously. He is worse than your uncle.”
“Very well, Auntie,” replied the reproved one; “I’ll remember that.” And we entered the house.
Of course, at dinner I told Uncle I had met Mrs. Mount, and, of course, Uncle asked what I thought of her.
“I could not quite make her out,” I replied, which was quite true. With all her mighty ways I did not altogether like her. She was rather too high and mighty.