"It is your own fault; you did it," he answered, a snap coming to his eyes. "You struck it with your elbow."
Bliss had now for the first time observed the catastrophe. He broke out into a roar of laughter, in which the others joined.
"Who ever heard of handing things around like that anyhow!" went on the owner of the silk hat; and he said something about being "brought up in a saw-mill," beneath his breath.
At this moment the girl in the corner spoke up.
"Oh, never mind that little thing, Mr. Hart," she said. "Your tea is getting cold."
Bliss had relieved his guest of the plate of croquettes, saying in an undertone:
"That's all right, old man; the cleverest thing you ever did."
Poor Hart could not see anything clever in it, and only stumbled through an inaudible reply as he managed to reach the corner where Miss Hollingsworth was seated. She made room for him on the little sofa and reached down the cup of tea. Hart looked at her. Her eyes were full of laughter.
"I am awfully glad you did that," she said;
