head drop, too, in imitation of his superiors.

"I'll tell you in the drawin'--room."

She placed her pretty, mittened hands upon the arms of the chair, and
gave a little wriggle, trying to get up. Then she cried out musically,--

"No, I must be carried up. Mr. Ferdinand!"

"Ma'am!"

"Is Gustavus to be trusted?"

"Trusted, ma'am!" cried Mr. Ferdinand, looking at Gustavus, who had
assumed an expression of pale and pathetic dignity. "Trusted--a London
footman! Oh, ma'am!"

His voice failed. He choked and began to rummage in the pocket of his
black tail coat for his perfumed handkerchief.

"T'st, t'st! I mean his arms," said Mrs. Merillia, patting her delicate
hands quickly on the chair. "Can he carry me?"

The countenance of Mr. Ferdinand cleared, while Gustavus eagerly
extended his right arm, bent it sharply, and allowed his magnificent
biceps to rise up in sudden majesty. Mrs. Merillia was reassured.

"Hoist me to the drawin'-room, then," she said. "Hennessey, will you
walk behind?"