"He _has_ an aristocratic
face,--'Monsieur le Marquis.'"
[Illustration: "HERE IS THE SKETCH."]
"Monsieur le Don_key_ would be a more suitable name," exclaimed Fee,
while Helen, Jack, and I laughed. "If you'd seen how absurd he looked
when he clicked his heels together and offered you his arm, you would
know mine is the title that best suits him. I declare I'll make a sketch
of you both from memory; it was too rich to be lost." Catching up a
blank book, he began to sketch rapidly. Nora turned away, laughing; but
we three remained, looking over Fee's shoulder, criticising and offering
suggestions, until it was finished. Here is the sketch: it's pretty good
of Nora, but of course it's a caricature of Chad.
About a quarter to ten the "party" broke up. Chad was the first to go;
as he rose to say good-night, I heard Nannie whisper to Phil: "Phil,
you'll have to see him out. Fee can't go all the way downstairs and then
up again,--it's too much for him,--and Jack is too young; anyway, it is
your place as the eldest."
"Little snob!" said Phil, savagely. "I'd like to take him down by way of
the banisters,--just give him one shove, and let him fly.
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