"What about me!" interrupted Jan Cuxson. "Eh! kiddie? You and I
riding big, fat elephants at the Zoo!"

"_You_--and _Jingles_--and _me_!" said Leonie, disengaging her hand
from her aunt's. "And you," she said sweetly, laying it on the elder
man's coat sleeve.

Heaven had opened wide its gates and she was for pulling everybody in
with her, and her eyes danced, and so did her patent shod feet on the
rug.

"It's _too_ kind of you, Jan!" broke in her aunt. "I really don't like
to let you waste your time with a child!"

"Not at all, Lady Hetth! I love kids--and the Zoo. Where shall I
bring her to afterwards?"

"Oh! Yes! bring her to the Ladies' Union Club where I am staying. No!
you'd better take her to her Nannie as they don't allow children in the
Club, thank goodness. They are staying in York Street, Baker Street,
quite convenient for you."

She trailed through the door as she spoke, pouring out a cascade of
vapid thanks and announcing also that she had shopping to do at
Debenham and Freebody's.

She hadn't, she was going to catch an omnibus in Cavendish Square,
being of those who, blindly extravagant in most things, think they
economise when spoiling their clothes and temper in a penny ha'penny
bus, instead of keeping both unruffled in a taxi, at two shillings.