Ten minutes later, as he went up the stoop of 142, an insidious policy stole into Holworthy's brain. He had lost the invitation and mistaken the number of the house,—why should he not have mistaken instead the hour of dinner? Was that not better than to be ignorant of the address of his hostess, upon whom he ought to have called long before this? He was in good time for an eight o'clock dinner, and most dinners are at eight nowadays. Then, too, Rattleton would be just about half an hour late, and would probably be utterly unconcerned about it, and offer no excuses. That would lend color to a suspicion that Mrs. Tremont had herself made the mistake, in writing some of the invitations. He would not need to tell any actual untruth—to say distinctly that he thought dinner was at eight. He need only imply it, and apologize for his evident mistake. It would be a pretty poor plea for a very bad crime, but at any rate it was a more polite explanation than the real one, and less ridiculous. Oh, Hollis Holworthy, that thou shouldst thus forget the veritas, the watchword of thine Alma Mater!
In the dressing-room was a straw hat with a colored ribbon. "Hullo," he surmised, "Jack is here. Wonder if the rest of his outfit corresponds, and he has come in his blazer." As he went into the dining-room, his eye first lighted on that interesting person whom Mr. Davis has capitally termed "A Girl He Knew." On her right was Rattleton, on her left a vacant chair. She must have had to go in alone!
With a look of gentle surprise and concern, that, he flattered himself, was rather well done, he went up and saluted Mrs. Tremont.
"Have I been mistaken," he asked, "in thinking that dinner was at eight o'clock, or has my watch betrayed me?" There was no fib in this and what could be more diplomatic?
Mrs. Tremont stood it for a second, then she happened to catch sight of Rattleton's face. It was too much for her, and she burst out laughing. After all, it was the best thing to do.
"Now, Mr. Holworthy, tell us what really happened, and we will believe and forgive you. Jack, here, has testified to the time of your departure from Cambridge, and you must fill in the interim somehow."
Then Hollis made a clean breast of the whole thing, and made the tale of his sufferings as moving as possible, finishing with a request for some dust to put on his head. He was so humble that even Rattleton was sorry for him; but the memory of many of Holworthy's lectures came to Jack and he could not resist suggesting to Mrs. Tremont, as Hollis took his seat, that as Holly's blood had run so cold she ought to have some soup warmed up for him.
That evening, on the way back to Cambridge in the cab, was spent one of the pleasantest half hours of Rattleton's life. He told Holworthy how a man could do nothing more outrageous than to keep his hostess waiting for dinner. He said he had a very good chain that he used for his dog Blathers, but which he could lend Hollis. He warned him some day that he would surely go to the devil by his careless habits. "Above all," said he, "never put your faith in excuses. Everybody knows you are lying, and even if you don't know that they know, etc., you sometimes find out."
Holworthy smoked his cigar vigorously without saying a word in reply. When they arrived at their club in Cambridge he asked, resignedly, "Well, what do you want for supper?"
"I know I ought to take champagne," answered Jack, graciously, "but as you are so very humble and I don't really want any more fizz, I will let you off with a rarebit and beer. But don't you ever jump on me again."