"I'll be——— No, I don't think I can do that."
"To our meeting, then?"
"No, ma'am; I don't go out after dinner."
"Oh yes, you will come. I will call in if I may, and chat it over with you when you come home. We have not breakfasted yet. Goodbye!" There was a whir of wheels, and the yellow cloud rolled away down the road again. By some legerdemain the Admiral found that he was clutching in his right hand one of the obnoxious bills. He crumpled it up, and threw it into the roadway.
"I'll be hanged if I go, Walker," said he, as be resumed his walk. "I've never been hustled into doing a thing yet, whether by woman or man."
"I am not a betting man," answered the Doctor, "but I rather think that the odds are in favor of your going."
The Admiral had hardly got home, and had just seated himself in his dining-room, when the attack upon him was renewed. He was slowly and lovingly unfolding the Times preparatory to the long read which led up to luncheon, and had even got so far as to fasten his golden pince-nez on to his thin, high-bridged nose, when he heard a crunching of gravel, and, looking over the top of his paper, saw Mrs. Westmacott coming up the garden walk.
