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DOLLY DIALOGUES "There is still time to draw back," I observed. "Oh, don't be silly. Here, this is my brother Tom's. 'Dear Dol,--I thought Mickleham rather an ass when I met him, but I dare say you know best. What's his place like? Does he take a moor? I thought I read that he kept a yacht. Does he? Give him my love and a kiss. Good luck, old girl. Tom. P.S.--I'm glad it's not me, you know.'" "A disgusting letter," I observed. "Not at all," said Miss Dolly, dimpling. "It's just like dear old Tom. Listen to grandpapa's. 'My dear Granddaughter,--The alliance' (I rather like it's being called an alliance, Mr. Carter. It sounds like the Royal Family, doesn't it?) 'you are about to contract is in all respects a suitable one. I send you my blessing and a small check to help towards your trousseau.--Yours affectionately, Jno. Wm. Foster.'" "That," said I, "is the best up to now." "Yes, it's 500," said she, smiling. "Here's old Lady M.'s." "Whose?" I exclaimed. "Archie's mother's, you know. 'My dear Dorothea (as I suppose I must call you now)--Archibald has informed us of his engagement, and I and the girls (there are five girls, Mr. Carter) hasten to welcome his bride. I am sure Archie will make his wife very happy. He is rather particular (like his dear father), but he has a good heart, and is not fidgety about his meals. Of course we shall be delighted to move out of The Towers at once. I hope we shall see a great deal of you soon. Archie is full of your praises, and we thoroughly trust his taste. Archie--' It's all about Archie, you see." "Naturally," said I. "Well, I don't know. I suppose I count a little, too. Oh, look here. Here's Cousin Fred's, but he's always so silly. I shan't read you his." "O, just a bit of it," I pleaded. "Well, here's one bit. 'I suppose I can't murder him, so I must wish him joy. All I can say is, Dolly, that he's the luckiest (something I can't read-- either fellow or--devil) I ever heard of. I wonder if you've forgotten that evening--'" "Well, go on." For she stopped. 8

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DOLLY DIALOGUES "Oh, there's nothing else." "In fact, you have forgotten the evening?" "Entirely," said Miss Dolly, tossing her head. "But he sends me a love of a bracelet. He can't possibly pay for it, poor boy." "Young knave!" said I severely. (I had paid for my pearl heart.) "Then comes a lot from girls. Oh, there's one from Maud Tottenham- -she's a second cousin, you know--it's rather amusing. 'I used to know your FIANCE slightly. He seemed very nice, but it's a long while ago, and I never saw much of him. I hope he is really fond of you, and that it is not a mere fancy. Since you love him so much, it would be a pity if he did not care deeply for you.'" "Interpret, Miss Dolly," said I. "She tried to catch him herself," said Miss Dolly. "Ah, I see. Is that all?" "The others aren't very interesting." "Then let's finish Georgy Vane's." "Really?" she asked, smiling. "Yes. Really." "Oh, if you don;'t mind, I don't," said she, laughing, and she hunted out the pink note and spread it before her. "Let me see. Where was I? Oh, here. 'I thought you were going to be silly and throw away your chances on some of the men who used to flirt with you. Archie Mickleham may not be a genius, but he's a good fellow and a swell and rich; and he's not a pauper, like Phil Meadows, or a snob like Charlie Dawson, or--' shall I go on, Mr. Carter? No, I won't. I didn't see what it was." "Yes, you shall go on." "O, no, I can't," and she folded up the letter. "Then I will," and I'm ashamed to say I snatched the letter. Miss Dolly jumped to her feet. I fled behind the table. She ran round. I dodged. "'Or'" I began to read. "Stop!" cried she. " 'Or a young spendthrift like that man--I forget his name--who you 9

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DOLLY DIALOGUES used to go on with at such a pace at Monte Carlo last winter.'" "Stop!" she cried. "You must stop, Mr. Carter." So then I stopped. I folded the letter and handed it back to her. Her cheeks flushed red as she took it. "I thought you were a gentleman," said she, biting her lip. "I was at Monte Carlo last winter myself," said I. "Lord Mickleham," said the butler, throwing open the door. 10

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DOLLY DIALOGUES RETRIBUTION In future I am going to be careful what I do. I am also--and this is by no means less important--going to be very careful what Miss Dolly Foster does. Everybody knows (if I may quote her particular friend Nellie Phaeton) that dear Dolly means no harm, but she is "just a little harumscarum." I thanked Miss Phaeton for the expression. The fact is that "old lady M." (Here I quote Miss Dolly) sent for me the other day. I have not the honor of knowing the Countess, and I went in some trepidation. When I was ushered in, Lady Mickleham put up her "starers." (You know those abominations! Pince-nez with long torture- -I mean tortoise--shell handles.) "Mr.--er--Carter?" said she. I bowed. I would have denied it if I could. "My dears!" said Lady Mickleham. Upon this five young ladies who had been sitting in five straight- backed chairs, doing five pieces of embroidery, rose, bowed, and filed out of the room. I felt very nervous. A pause followed. Then the Countess observed--and it seemed at first rather irrelevant-- "I've been reading an unpleasant story." "In these days of French influence," I began apologetically (not that I write such stories, or any stories, but Lady Mickleham invites an apologetic attitude), and my eye wandered to the table. I saw nothing worse (or better) than the morning paper there. "Contained in a friend's letter," she continued, focusing the "starers" full on my face. I did not know what to do, so I bowed again. "It must have been as painful for her to write as for me to read," Lady Mickleham went on. "And that is saying much. Be seated, pray." I bowed, and sat down in one of the straight-back chairs. I also began, in my fright, to play with one of the pieces of embroidery. "Is Lady Jane's work in your way?" (Lady Jane is named after Jane, 11

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DOLLY DIALOGUES the famous Countess, Lady-in-Waiting to Caroline of Anspach.) I dropped the embroidery, and put my foot on my hat. "I believe, Mr. Carter, that you are acquainted with Miss Dorothea Foster?" "I have that pleasure," said I. "Who is about to be married to my son, the Earl of Mickleham?" "That, I believe, is so," said I. I was beginning to pull myself together. "My son, Mr. Carter, is of a simple and trusting disposition. Perhaps I had better come to the point. I am informed by this letter that, in conversation with the writer the other day, Archibald mentioned, quite incidentally, some very startling facts. Those facts concern you, Mr. Carter." "May I ask the name of the writer?" "I do not think that is necessary," said she. "She is a lady in whom I have the utmost confidence." "That is, of course, enough," said I. "It appears, Mr. Carter--and you will excuse me if I speak plainly--(I set my teeth) that you have, in the first place, given to my son's bride a wedding present, which I can only describe as--" "A pearl ornament," I interposed; "with a ruby or two, and--" "A pearl heart," she corrected; "er--fractured, and that you explained that this absurd article represented your heart." "Mere badinage," said I. "In execrably bad taste," said she. I bowed. "In fact, most offensive. But that is not the worst. From my son's further statements it appears that on one occasion, at least, he found you and Miss Foster engaged in what I can only call--" I raised my hand in protest. The Countess took no notice. "What I can only call romping." "Romping!" I cried. "A thing not only atrociously vulgar at all times, but under the circumstances--need I say more? Mr. Carter, you were engaged in chasing 12

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DOLLY DIALOGUES my son's future bride round a table!" "Pardon me, Lady Mickleham. Your son's future bride was engaged in chasing me round a table." "It is the same thing," said Lady Mickleham. "I should have thought there was a distinction," said I. "None at all." I fell back on a second line of defense. "I didn't let her catch me, Lady Mickleham," I pleaded. Lady Mickleham grew quite red. This made me feel more at my ease. "No, sir. If you had--" "Goodness knows!" I murmured, shaking my head. "As it happened, however, my son entered in the middle of this disgraceful--" "It was at the beginning," said I, with a regretful sigh. Upon this--and I have really never been so pleased at anything in all my life--the Countess, the violence of her emotions penetrating to her very fingers, gripped the handle of her "starers" with such force that she broke it in two! She was a woman of the world, and in a moment she looked as if nothing had happened. With me it was different; and that I am not now on Lady Mickleham's visiting list is due to (inter alia et enormia) the fact that I laughed! It was out before I could help it. In a second I was as grave as a mute. The mischief was done. The Countess rose. I imitated her example. "You are amused?" said she, and her tones banished the last of my mirth. I stumbled on my hat and it rolled to her feet. "It is not probable," she observed, "that after Miss Foster's marriage you will meet her often. You will move in--er--somewhat different circles." "I may catch a glimpse of her in her carriage from the top of my 'bus," said I. Lady Mickleham rang the bell. I stooped for my hat. To tell the truth, I was rather afraid to expose myself in such a defenseless attitude, but the Countess preserved her self control. The butler opened the door. 13

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DOLLY DIALOGUES I bowed, and left the Countess regarding me through the maimed "starers." Then I found the butler smiling. He probably knew the signs of the weather. I wouldn't be Lady Mickleham's butler if you made me a duke. As I walked home through the Park, I met Miss Dolly and Mickleham. They stopped. I walked on. Mickleham seized me by the coat tails. "Do you mean to cut us?" he cried. "Yes," said I. "Why, what the deuce?--" he began. "I've seen your mother," said I. "I wish, Mickleham, that when you do happen to intrude as you did the other day, you wouldn't repeat what you see." "Lord!" he cried. "She's not heard of that. I only told Aunt Cynthia." I said something about "Aunt Cynthia." "Does--does she know it all?" asked Miss Dolly. "More than all--much more." "Didn't you smooth it over?" said Miss Dolly reproachfully. "On reflection," said I, "I don't know that I did--much." (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 14