"I beg your pardon," he cried; "but really—ha! ha!—you must excuse me!—that is so uncommonly diverting—ha! ha! Do let me hear it again?—ha! ha! ha!" "Upon my word," rejoined Wood, "you seem vastly entertained by my misfortunes. "Whose child can this be?" "How the devil should I know!" replied Jonathan gruffly. Then the hotel manager struck his palms together sharply, and two Chinese "boys" came pattering in from the dining room. The old lady’s face was stiff with anger. She answered slowly. Daughters were not like sons. . Could you come to tea at my rooms one afternoon, or would you dine with me somewhere, and do a theatre? We could have a private room, of course, if you do not wish to be seen about London, and a box at the theatre. Her lips parted, but no words came.
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