I didn't wait for him to finish, but waltzed right in. I danced
straight up to that side of beef with the diamonds still on it,
and flinging my arms about her, turned a coy eye on the Bishop.

"You said your wife was out of town, daddy," I cried gaily.
"Have you got another wife besides mummy?"

The poor Bishop! Do you think he tumbled? Not a bit--not a bit.
He sat there gasping like a fish, and Mrs. Dowager Diamonds,
surprised by my sudden attack, stood bolt upright, about as
pleasant to hug as--as you are, Tom, when you're jealous.

The trouble with the Bishop's set is that it's deadly slow. Now,
if I had really been the Bishop's daughter--all right, I'll go
on.

"Oh, mummy," I went on quickly. You know how I said it,
Tom--the way I told you after that last row that Dan Christensen
wasn't near so good-looking as you--remember? "Oh, mummy, you
don't know how good it feels to get home. Out there at that awful
college, studying and studying and studying, sometimes I thought
I'd lose my senses. There's a girl out there now suffering from
nervous prostration. She worked so hard preparing for the
mid-years. What's her name? I can't think--I can't think, my
head's so tired. But it sounds like mine, a lot like mine.
Once--I think it was yesterday--I thought it was mine, and I made
up my mind suddenly to come right home and bring it with me. But
it can't be mine, can it? It can't be my name she's got. It can't
be, mummy, say it can't, say it can't!"