A Damsel in Distress

"I had to run up on business," explained George. "How are you, Lord

Marshmoreton?"

The earl nodded briefly.

"So you're on to him, too?" said Billie. "When did you get wise?"

"Lord Marshmoreton was kind enough to call on me the other morning

and drop the incognito."

"Isn't dadda the foxiest old thing!" said Billie delightedly.

"Imagine him standing there that day in the garden, kidding us

along like that! I tell you, when they brought me his card last

night after the first act and I went down to take a slant at this

Lord Marshmoreton and found dadda hanging round the stage door, you

could have knocked me over with a whisk-broom."

"I have not stood at the stage-door for twenty-five years," said

Lord Marshmoreton sadly.

"Now, it's no use your pulling that Henry W. Methuselah stuff,"

said Billie affectionately. "You can't get away with it. Anyone

can see you're just a kid. Can't they, George?" She indicated the

blushing earl with a wave of the hand. "Isn't dadda the youngest

thing that ever happened?"

"Exactly what I told him myself."

Lord Marshmoreton giggled. There is no other verb that describes

the sound that proceeded from him.

"I feel young," he admitted.

"I wish some of the juveniles in the shows I've been in," said

Billie, "were as young as you. It's getting so nowadays that one's

thankful if a juvenile has teeth." She glanced across the room.

"Your pals are walking out on you, George. The people you were

lunching with," she explained. "They're leaving."

"That's all right. I said good-bye to them." He looked at Lord

Marshmoreton. It seemed a suitable opportunity to break the news.

"I was lunching with Mr. and Mrs. Byng," he said.

Nothing appeared to stir beneath Lord Marshmoreton's tanned

forehead.

"Reggie Byng and his wife, Lord Marshmoreton," added George.

This time he secured the earl's interest. Lord Marshmoreton

started.

"What!"

"They are just off to Paris," said George.

"Reggie Byng is not married!"

"Married this morning. I was best man."

"Busy little creature!" interjected Billie.

"But--but--!"

"You know his wife," said George casually. "She was a Miss Faraday.

I think she was your secretary."

It would have been impossible to deny that Lord Marshmoreton showed

emotion. His mouth opened, and he clutched the tablecloth. But

just what the emotion was George was unable to say till, with a

sigh that seemed to come from his innermost being, the other

exclaimed "Thank Heaven!"

George was surprised.

"You're glad?"

"Of course I'm glad!"

"It's a pity they didn't know how you were going to feel. It would

have saved them a lot of anxiety. I rather gathered they supposed

that the shock was apt to darken your whole life."