"Georgie"
I wondered.
All the next day I thought the thing over, as calmly, and as dispassionately as possible from every point of view, even Georgie's, and in the end I made up my mind unalterably. Then I slept on it and at ten o'clock the next morning went to look for him. I found him sitting over his breakfast, apparently in the deepest depths of gloomy despair.
"Cheer up," I said, "I've good news for you."
"Thanks. It's about time I got some from somewhere. It's a beastly world."
"I've found a way for you out of your muddle," I said.
He looked up and stared, and then I noticed at his right hand a little lilac envelope.
"Drusilla," I said, in an off-hand way, "made a mistake in her feelings. Luckily for you, she had transferred her affections to someone else—"
"It's not true," Georgie cried hotly. "It's a—"
30
