"I—I am sorry to hear that," said he.
"And I do not know of any one who is in a better position to help him than you," she went on coolly.
"I shall be happy to be of service to Lord Temple," said Mr. Cricklewick, but not very heartily. Observation had taught him that young noblemen seldom if ever get into trouble half way; they make a practice of going in clean over their heads.
"Owing to an unpleasant misunderstanding with Mr. Stuyvesant Smith-Parvis, he has lost his situation as chauffeur for Mr. Carpenter," said she.
"I hope he has not—ahem!—thumped him," said Mr. Cricklewick, in such dismay that he allowed the extremely undignified word to slip out.
She smiled faintly. "I said unpleasant, Mr. Cricklewick,—not pleasant."
"Bless my soul," said Mr. Cricklewick, blinking.
"Mr. Smith-Parvis has prevailed upon Mr. Carpenter to dismiss him, and I fear, between them, they are planning to drive him out of the city in disgrace."
"Bless me! This is too bad."
Without divulging the cause of Smith-Parvis's animosity, she went briefly into the result thereof.
"It is really infamous," she concluded, her eyes flashing. "Don't you agree with me?"
Having it put to him so abruptly as that, Mr. Cricklewick agreed with her.
"Well, then, we must put our heads together, Mr. Cricklewick," she said, with decision.
"Quite so," said he, a little vaguely.
"He is not to be driven out of the city," said she.
