"I'm afraid you've come too late, MISTER Bremmil," she said, with her eyes
twinkling.
Then he begged her to give him a dance, and, as a great favor, she allowed him
the fifth waltz. Luckily it stood vacant on his programme. They danced it
together, and there was a little flutter round the room. Bremmil had a sort of
notion that his wife could dance, but he never knew she danced so divinely. At
the end of that waltz he asked for another--as a favor, not as a right; and
Mrs. Bremmil said: "Show me your programme, dear!" He showed it as a naughty
little schoolboy hands up contraband sweets to a master.
There was a fair sprinkling of "H" on it besides "H" at supper.
Mrs. Bremmil said nothing, but she smiled contemptuously, ran her pencil
through 7 and 9--two "H's"--and returned the card with her own name written
above--a pet name that only she and her husband used. Then she shook her
finger at him, and said, laughing: "Oh, you silly, SILLY boy!"
Mrs. Hauksbee heard that, and--she owned as much--felt that she had the worst
of it. Bremmil accepted 7 and 9 gratefully. They danced 7, and sat out 9 in
one of the little tents. What Bremmil said and what Mrs. Bremmil said is no
concern of any one's.
When the band struck up "The Roast Beef of Old England," the two went out into
the verandah, and Bremmil began looking for his wife's dandy (this was before
'rickshaw days) while she went into the cloak-room.
Pages:
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551
552
553
554
555