"
"What, what! But I mean to say, you're having me on. My word you
are--spoofing, I mean to say. What, what! To be sure. Chaffing lot,
you are!" He laughed. He was behaving almost with levity.
"But poor old George is so much younger than you--you must make
allowances," I again caught her saying; and his lordship replied:
"Not at all; not at all! Matter of a half-score years. Barely a
half-score; nine and a few months. Younger? What rot! Chaffing again."
Really it was a bit thick, the creature saying "poor old George" quite
as if he were something in an institution, having to be wheeled about
in a bath-chair with rugs and water-bottles!
Glad I was when the trio gave signs of departure. It was woman's craft
dictating it, I dare say. She had made her effect and knew when to go.
"Of course we shall have to talk over my dreadful designs on your poor
old George," said the amazing woman, intently regarding his lordship
at parting.
"Leave it to me," said he, with a scarcely veiled significance.
"Well, see you again, Cap," said Cousin Egbert warmly. "I'll take you
around to meet some of the boys. We'll see you have a good time."
"What ho!" his lordship replied cordially. The Klondike person flashed
him one enigmatic look, then turned to precede her companions.
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