IV.
THE PERVERSENESS OF IT.
'I tell you what, Mr. Carter,' said Miss Nellie Phaeton, touching up Rhino with her whip, 'love in a cottage is'
'Lord forgive us, cinders, ashes, dust,' I quoted.
We were spanking round the Park behind Ready and Rhino. Miss Phaeton's horses are very large; her groom is very small, and her courage is indomitable. I am no great hand at driving myself, and I am not always quite comfortable. Moreover, the stricter part of my acquaintance consider, I believe, that Miss Phaeton's attentions to me are somewhat pronounced, and that I ought not to drive with her in the Park.
'You're right,' she went on. 'What a girl wants is a good house and lots of cash, and some ridin' and a little huntin' and'
'A few "g's";' I cried in shuddering entreaty. 'If you love me, a "g" or two.'
'Well, I suppose so,' said she. 'You can't go ridin' without gees, can you?'
Apparently one could go driving without any, but I did not pursue the subject.
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