"Ah, Jimmy!" he said. "I'm glad to see you!"
"Yes, but please don't get up, colonel," returned Jimmy, looking
sympathetically at his host's leg. "A little stiff at the joint?
Rheumatism, I suppose?"
"Nothing of the sort," said Colonel Faversham, wincing, as he stood
erect. "I never felt better in my life."
"In fact," suggested Carrissima, "father has a growing pain."
"I have not any pain in my body," cried the colonel, devoutly wishing
he had not. "I will walk you twenty miles any day you like."
"Walking," said Jimmy, "is becoming a lost art. We all choose some
other mode of locomotion when we can. If we don't fly, we motor, and
before long it will be quite customary to skate on the pavement."
"Jimmy, your presence is demoralizing," answered Carrissima. "Mrs.
Reynolds was discussing the influence of democracy on the fine arts,
and now you have brought us down to frivolity."
"I don't think you know Miss Rosser," said Colonel Faversham, drawing
nearer to the empty chair by Bridget's side. "Mr. Clynesworth--Miss
Rosser."
The colonel would have given something to avoid this presentation, but
since Jimmy had unfortunately come, he would not allow Bridget to be
left out in the cold.
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