guid."

So we ate heartily, paid reasonably and went away on good terms with
ourselves and the lady.

Walking up the steep hill from the hotel I was just behind Willoughby
and Sylvia. He was pushing the two bicycles and explaining something
elaborately.

"Awfully sorry about that silly woman, Sylvia," he said, "but it's
only their rotten way of talking English. You see, when she says,
'_Will_ you be Mrs. Willoughby?' she really means, '_Are_ you?' It's
not the same as when an Englishman says it. If I said, 'Will you be
Mrs. Willoughby?' that would be different; it would mean--"

"Yes," interrupted Sylvia rather breathlessly, "that, Tommy dear,
would be plain English, to which I could give a plain answer. I should
say--"

We had reached the brow of the hill. I mounted my bicycle and hurried
on.

* * * * *

[Illustration: _Mistress._ "YOU SEEM TO HAVE BEEN IN A GOOD MANY
SITUATIONS. HOW MANY MISTRESSES HAVE YOU HAD, ALL TOLD?"

_Maid._ "FIFTEEN, ALL TOLD--AND ALL TOLD WHAT I THOUGHT OF 'EM."]

* * * * *