be
good enough for the rest of the people I'm likely to meet, so I'm not
goin' to break my neck no more trying to talk like your Aunt
Nasturtium," announced Million defiantly. "I'm goin' to talk straight,
the way it comes natchrul to me. Now about this love. As I say, I been
let down once with it. And once bit, twice shy. I'm not goin' to let
myself get buzzed, as Vi calls it, no second time. S'no use any more
good-lookin' young gentlemanly men comin' round to try and get on the
soft side of Nellie Million, and fillin' her up with a lot of Tales of
Hoffmann jest because she happens to have a bit of her own. That was a
shock to me, Smith, that was. That about the Honourable Mr. Burke being
such a liar. It's a good job, in a way. Because it's put me off love for
life!"

"I wonder," I said, standing there, and looking thoughtfully down at the
well-dressed, sturdy little figure with the black hair that I can still
see looking neat and glossy under a cap. "If it has done that, it may,
as you say, be 'a good job.' But it might be--a great pity!"

"Ar, go on. Don't you believe that, Miss Kid," returned my mistress with
a funny little echo of England's Premier Comedienne in her voice.
"Love's all right for anybody that hasn't got anything else to hope for,
and that's about as much as you can say for it. But what about yourself,
Smith?"

Here my mistress's bright grey eyes gave me a very straight glance.

"What about our young Mr. Brace, him from the bank? I sor him in court,
and it wasn't at me he was looking at all. Then there was at lunch
to-day. Several times Vi has passed the remark about him and you being
very thick----"

I repressed a wish to check this expression. After all, if "Hiram"
considers it lovely, and it comes "natchrul" to Miss Million, why should
I worry any longer about her flowers of speech?

She then put a "straight" question:

"Has that young gentleman bin makin' up to you?"

I answered her in a "straight" manner:

"Yes. He has. He's asked me to marry him."

"Oh! Good for you!" exclaimed my young mistress delightedly. "Marry you,
already? That would be a step up for you, wouldn't it, Smith? From being
my maid to being a bank manager's wife! Something like, that is. I
always liked him--always thought him a very nice, gentlemanly, superior
sort of looking young feller. And so did you, Miss Beat--so did you,
Smith! In the old days at Putney, with his garden-hose and all!
(Artful!) Well! Of cours