his as I waited
on him. How is it that every syllable spoken in a certain kind of Irish
voice seems to mean a compliment, even if it's only "thank you" for the
sugar? I went back and stood as silent and self-effacing as a statue, or
a really well-trained servant, by the tea-things, while the Honourable
James Burke went on improving the shining hour with his millionaire
hostess.

This was the sort of conversation that had been going on, evidently,
from the start:

"Isn't it an extraordinary thing, now, that I should be sitting here,
cosily talking to you like this, when just at this same time last year,
my dear Miss Million, I was sitting and talking to that dear old uncle
of yours in Chicago?" he said. "Every afternoon I used to go and sit by
his bedside----"

"A year ago, was it?" put in Million. "Why, Mr. Burke, I never knew
uncle had been poorly so long as that; I thought he was taken ill quite
sudden."

"Oh, yes, of course. So he was," Mr. Burke put in quickly. "But you know
he had an awful bad doing a good time before that. Sprained his ankle,
poor old boy, and had to lie up for weeks. Awfully tedious for him; he
used to get so ratty, if you don't mind my saying so, Miss Million. He
used to flare up in his tempers like a match, dear old fellow!"

"Well, I never. I'm rather that way myself," from the delighted Million,
who was obviously hanging on every word that fell from the young
fortune-hunter's improvising lips. "Must be in the family!"

"Ah, yes; it always goes with that generous, frank, natural disposition.
Always hasty as well! So much better than sulking, I always think," from
the Irishman. "When it's over, it's over. Why, as your dear old uncle
used to say to me, 'Jim,' he'd say--he always called me Jim----"

"Did he really, now?" from Million. "Fancy!"

Yes, it was all "fancy," I thought.

As I stood there listening to that glib West of Ireland accent piling
detail on detail to the account of the Honourable Jim's friendship with
the old Chicago millionaire a queer conviction strengthened in my mind.
I didn't believe a word of it!

"One of the best old chaps I ever knew. Hard and crusty on the
outside--a rough diamond, if you know what I mean--but one of Nature's
own gentlemen. I'm proud to think he had a good opinion of me----"

All a make-up for the benefit of the ingenuous, ignorant little heiress
to whom he was talking! He was brazenly "pulling" Miss Million's
unsophisticated leg! Honoura