CHAPTER THREE
As I brisked out of bed the following morning at half-after six, I
could not but wonder rather nervously what the day might have in store
for me. I was obliged to admit that what I was in for looked a bit
thick. As I opened my door I heard stealthy footsteps down the hall
and looked out in time to observe Cousin Egbert entering his own room.
It was not this that startled me. He would have been abroad, I knew,
for the ham and eggs that were forbidden him. Yet I stood aghast, for
with the lounge-suit of tweeds I had selected the day before he had
worn his top-hat! I am aware that these things I relate of him may not
be credited. I can only put them down in all sincerity.
I hastened to him and removed the thing from his head. I fear it was
not with the utmost deference, for I have my human moments.
"It's not done, sir," I protested. He saw that I was offended.
"All right, sir," he replied meekly. "But how was I to know? I thought
it kind of set me off." He referred to it as a "stove-pipe" hat. I
knew then that I should find myself overlooking many things in him. He
was not a person one could be stern with, and I even promised that
Mrs. Effie should not be told of his offence, he promising in turn
never again to stir abroad without first submitting himself to me and
agreeing also to wear sock-suspenders from that day forth.
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