elling me just why you soused your tea
into his face? It would make a corking story for my morning edition.
Did you know them or did you know the lady or did you do it to be
launcelotting?"

"I think it must have been for the third of those reasons, Madam, but
I am not sure that I know the word you use," I answered with much
caution.

"Launcelot, you know, the boy that was always fussing around over
injured women, in Tennyson or somewhere, just for a love of 'em that
was always perfectly proper. Nice of him but not progressive. Say, do
you mind sitting down in a quiet corner of the tea room and telling me
all about it? Are you French or Russian or Brazilian, and do you
believe in women, or is it just because you like 'em that you threw
the tea? I've got a suffrage article to do and I believe you'd make a
good headline, with your militant tea throwing. Want to tell me all
about it?"

"I have just one hour before going to the State of Harpeth, many miles
from here, Madam," I made answer with a great politeness. "I thank you
but I must make my regrets."

"Oh, I can find out all I want to know about you in five minutes. Just
come sit down with me and be a good boy. Do you want to give me your
name? I wish you really were _somebody_ that had given Willie
that tea fight." And while making protestations and remonstrances I
was led again into that tea room and seated at a great distance from
the table which had been occupied by that Mr. William Raines and Mr.
Peter Scudder, who had now departed. "If you really were some big gun
it would kill Willie dead."

"Then, Madam, permit me to present myself to you as Robert Carruthers,
Marquis de Grez and Bye, from Paris on my way to visit my Uncle,
General Robert Carruthers, of the State of Harpeth. I would very
willingly by information or a sword kill that Mr. William Raines of
Saint Louis and I regret that--that--" At the beginning of my sentence
I had drawn myself up into the attitude of the old Marquis of Flanders
in the hall of the ruined Chateau de Grez, but when I had got to the
point--of, shall I say, my own sword?--I was forced to collapse and I
could feel my knees under the tea table begin to shake together and
huddle for their accustomed and now missing skirts.

"That's fine and dandy," answered the nice woman as she began to write
rapidly upon the blank paper. "If you'd drawn fifty swords on Willie
and he had knocked you down with the butt end of his teaspoon I'd hav