casually mentioned our having brought an English man-servant. Print that now and insult all our best people who received him!"
"Pathetic how little the poor chap understands," sighed Belknap-Jackson. "No sense at all of our plight—naturally, naturally!"
"'A series of entertainments being planned in his honour!'" quavered Mrs. Belknap-Jackson.
"'The most sought-after notable present!'" echoed Mrs. Effie viciously.
Again and again I had essayed to protest my innocence, only to provoke renewed outbursts. I could but stand there with what dignity I retained and let them savage me. Cousin Egbert now spoke again:
"Shucks! What's all the fuss? Just because I took Bill out and give him a good time! Didn't you say yourself in that there very piece that he'd impart to coming functions an air of smartiness like they have all over Europe? Didn't you write them very words? And ain't he already done it the very first night he gets here, right at that there lawn-feet where I took him? What for do you jump on me then? I took him and he done it; he done it good. Bill's a born mixer. Why, he had all them North Side society dames stung the minute I flashed him; after him quicker than hell could scorch a feather; run out from under their hats to get introduced to him—and now you all turn on me like a passel of starved wolves." He finished with a note of genuine irritation I had never heard in his voice.
"The poor creature's demented," remarked Mrs. Belknap-Jackson pityingly.
