Now, to do Sir Peter justice, he had meant to keep that little bit of
gossip entirely to himself, for solitary gloating over and nibbling.
But when an old gentleman has spent all his life uttering melancholy
platitudes, and is suddenly delivered of a joke--of two jokes--it is a
little hard to expect him to hide his light under a bushel. He could have
buried scandal in his breast forever, but to put an extinguisher on the
sparks of his playful fancy--no, these things are beyond a man's control.
And as the idea of the goose, with all its subtle humor, sank deeper and
deeper into Sir Peter's mind, he was irresistibly tempted to impart it to
Lady Morley (in strict confidence). Such a joke as that ought not to be
kept to himself to live and die with him; it would hardly be kind to Lady
Morley. She would appreciate it.
She did appreciate it. So did Miss Batchelor, to whom she also told the
story (in strict confidence). So did everybody whom Miss Batchelor may or
may not have confided in. And when the thing became public property, Sir
Peter wished he had restrained his sense of humor.