." (I hadn't, you
know.)

Suddenly Mickleham burst out laughing.

"What a game!" he exclaimed.

"That's all very well for you," said Dolly. "But do you happen to
remember that we dine there tonight?" Archie grew grave.

"I hope you'll enjoy yourselves," said I. "I always cling to the belief
that the wicked are punished." And I looked at Miss Dolly.

"Never you mind, little woman," said Archie, drawing Miss Dolly's arm
through his, "I'll see you through. After all, everybody knows that old
Carter's an ass."

That piece of universal knowledge may help matters, but I do not quite
see how. I walked on, for Miss Dolly had quite forgotten me, and was
looking up at Archie Mickleham like--well, hang it, in the way they do,
you know. So I just walked on.

I believe Miss Dolly has got a husband who is (let us say) good enough
for her. And, for one reason and another, I am glad of it. And I also
believe that she knows it. And I am--I suppose--glad of that, too. Oh,
yes, of course, I am. Of course.

THE PERVERSENESS OF IT

"I tell you what, Mr. Carter," said Miss Nellie Phaeton, touching up
Rhino with her whip, "love in a cottage is--"

"Lord forgive us, cinders, ashes, dust," I quoted.

We were spanking round the Park behind Ready and Rhino. Miss Phaeton's
horses are very large; her groom is very small, and her courage is
indomitable. I am no great hand at driving myself, and I am not always
quite comfortable. Moreover, the stricter part of my acquaintance
consider, I believe, that Miss Phaeton's attentions to me are somewhat
pronounced, and that I ought not to drive with her in the Park.

"You're right," she went on. "What a girl wants is a good house and lots
of cash, and some ridin' and a little huntin' and--"

"A few g's!'" I cried in shuddering entreaty. "If you love me, a g' or
two."

"Well, I suppose so," said she. "You can't go ridin' without gees, can
you?"

Apparently one could go driving without any, but I did not pursue the
subject.

"It's only in stories that people are in love when they marry," observed
Miss Phaeton reflectively.

"Yes, and then it's generally with somebody else," said I.

"Oh, if you count that!" said she, hitting Ready rather viciously. We
bounded forward, and I heard the little groom bumping on the back seat.
I am always glad not to be a groom--it's a cup-and-ball sort of life,
which must be very wearying.

"Were you ever in love?" she asked, just avoiding a brougha