much better to be a nonentity than to risk being called a cad.
Just then I saw Lord Hendley coming back, pushing his way through the crowd.
'I say,' he began as soon as he could get near enough to me to speak without shouting for everyone else to hear, 'who's Tommy?'
'Tommy?' I asked, doubtless looking as puzzled as I felt.
'Yes,' he said, 'the Tommy mentioned in Lady Manifold's telegram.'
'What!' I cried, horrified. 'Do you mean to say that you read that telegram you were given to send off?'
'I had to,' he confessed, looking comically apologetic. 'They couldn't read her writing, and asked me to try and make out what it was.'
'And could you?' I was curious enough to ask.
'Well,' he laughed, 'I only hope I deciphered it right, but I made it read: "Be sure Tommy does not eat too much. His health is delicate."'
I laughed. I knew Lady Manifold's playful little habit—that occasionally became exceedingly trying to her friends—of sending off telegrams on the most impossible of subjects on every possible occasion.
'It doesn't sound right, does it?' I said. 'Poor Lady Manifold! If you've mutilated her telegram! I'm sure Tommy could never forgive the state of his health being exposed in a public telegram like that.'
'My only hope,' said Lord Hendley comically, 'is that Tommy isn't a human being.'
