Volume VIII Part 18 (2/2)
”No, sir, he is not,” the maid answered civilly.
”Do you know where he may be found?”
”If you have a bill you may leave it,”--frostily and with sudden suspicion.
There was a smothered sound from behind me, and I flushed angrily.
”I am not a bill-collector.”
”Oh; it's the second day of the month, you know. I thought perhaps you were.”
”He has in his possession a hat which does not belong to him.”
”Good gracious, he hasn't been _stealing_? I don't believe”--making as though to shut the door.
This was too much, and I laughed. ”No, my girl; he hasn't been stealing.
But, being absent-minded, he has taken another man's hat, and I am bringing his home in hopes of getting the one he took by mistake.”
”Oh!” And the maid laughed shrilly.
I held out the hat.
”My land! that's his hat, sure enough. I was wondering what made him look so funny when he went out.”
”Where has he gone?” came sharply over my shoulder.
”If you will wait,” said the maid good-naturedly, ”I will inquire.”
We waited. So far as I was concerned, I hoped he was miles away, and that we might go on riding for hours and hours. The maid returned soon.
”He has gone to meet the French consul at Mouquin's.”
”Which one?” I asked. ”There are two, one down and one up town.”
”I'm sure I don't know. You can leave the hat and your card.”
”Thank you; we shall retain the hat. If we find monsieur he will need it.”
”I'm sorry,” said the maid sympathetically. ”He's the worst man you ever saw for forgetting things. Sometimes he goes right by the house and has to walk back.”
”I'm sorry to have bothered you,” said I; and the only girl in the world and myself reentered the cab.
”This is terrible!” she murmured as we drove off.
”It might be worse,” I replied, thinking of the probable long ride with her: perhaps the last I should ever take!
”How could it be!”
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