ut here she is," said the Babe, taking at that moment the card from old
Goslin's hand. "She will think it so strange."
"I'd really rather not," repeated poor Jack.
"It seems discourteous," suggested Somerville.
"You go," suggested Jack.
"She doesn't want to see me," explained Somerville.
"Yes she does," corrected him the Babe.
"I'd forgotten, she wants to see you both."
"If I go," said Jack, "I shall tell her the plain truth."
"Do you know," said Somerville, "I'm thinking that will be the shortest
way."
Miss Bulstrode was seated in the hall. Jack Herring and Somerville both
thought her present quieter style of dress suited her much better.
"Here he is," announced the Babe, in triumph. "Here's Jack Herring and
here's Somerville. Do you know, I could hardly persuade them to come out
and see you. Dear old Jack, he always was so shy."
Miss Bulstrode rose. She said she could never thank them sufficiently
for all their goodness to her. Miss Bulstrode seemed quite overcome. Her
voice trembled with emotion.
"Before we go further, Miss Bulstrode," said Jack Herring, "it will be
best to tell you that all along we thought you were your brother, dressed
up as a girl."
"Oh!" said the Babe, "so that's the explanation, is it? If I had only
known--" Then the Babe stopped, and wished he hadn't spoken.
Somerville seized him by the shoulders and, with a sudden jerk, stood him
beside his sister under the gas-jet.
"You little brute!" said Somerville. "It was you all along." And the
Babe, seeing the game was up, and glad that the joke had not been
entirely on one side, confessed.
Jack Herring and Somerville the Briefless went that night with Johnny and
his sister to the theatre--and on other nights. Miss Bulstrode thought
Jack Herring very nice, and told her brother so. But she thought
Somerville the Briefless even nicer, and later, under cross-examination,
when Somerville was no longer briefless, told Somerville so himself.
But that has nothing to do with this particular story, the end of which
is that Miss Bulstrode kept the appointment made for Monday afternoon
between "Miss Montgomery" and Mr. Jowett, and secured thereby the Marble
Soap advertisement for the back page of _Good Humour_ for six months, at
twenty-five pounds a week.
STORY THE SEVENTH--Dick Danvers presents his Petition
William Clodd, mopping his brow, laid down the screwdriver, and stepping
back, regarded the r
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