"Phyllis," said I, "do you remember the day we first met?"
We were in the morning room of the Wentworth mansion at B----.
Phyllis, Pembroke and I sat before the warm grate, while Mrs. Wentworth
and Ethel stood by one of the windows, comparing some shades of ribbon.
My presence at B---- was due to a wire I had sent to New York, which
informed headquarters that I was on the track of a great sensation.
The return wire had said, "Keep on it."
"When first we met?" echoed Phyllis. "Why, it was at Block Island."
"Oh," said I, "I do not refer to the time when you had shouldered the
responsibilities of a society bud. I mean the time when the
introduction was most informal. You were at the time selling lemonade
without license and with very little lemon."
"Selling lemonade?" cried Pembroke.
"Never mind him, Mr. Pembroke," laughed Phyllis.
"It was a long time ago," I went on. "I was a new reporter. Mr.
Wentworth had to be interviewed. It was one of those hot days in May.
The servant at the door said that Mr. Wentworth was in the back
yard--he called it the garden--where I soon found myself. You had a
small table, a glass and a pitcher. I suppose every time your uncle
got thirsty you sold him a glass. You wore short dresses--"
"Terrible!" cried Phyllis, shielding her face with the hand-screen.
"And looked as cool as the ice in the pitcher, and as fresh as the
flowers which lined the walls. I thought that if I bought a glass of
you I might make my approach to your uncle an easier task. So I looked
at you and smiled, and you giggled."
"Giggled!" cried Phyllis, indignantly.
Pembroke was laughing.
"Yes, actually giggled," I went on. "I laid down a twenty-five-cent
piece, and you poured but some water which had had nothing more than a
mild flirtation with a lemon, and I gulped it down. I held out my
hand, and you said that there wasn't any change. I smiled a false
smile. Let me make a confession."
"Well?" mockingly from Phyllis.
"It was my last quarter. It was very pathetic. I had to walk four
miles down town. I did not know your uncle well enough or I should
have borrowed carfare from him."
"And I took your last penny?" said Phyllis, gently. "Why did you not
tell me then?"