“Have you got a brass bed in your room?” he asked.  The beautiful lady said she had.

“So’ve I,” said the young man.  “They do you rather well, don’t they?  And it’s only three dollars.  How much is that?”

“Four times three would be twelve,” said the lady.  “Twelve shillings.”

The young man was smoking a cigarette in a long amber cigarette-holder.  I never had seen one so long.  He examined the end of his cigarette-holder, and, apparently surprised and relieved at finding a cigarette there, again smiled contentedly.

The lovely lady pointed at the marble shaft rising above Madison Square.

“That is the tallest sky-scraper,” she said, “in New York.”  I had just informed her of that fact.  The young man smiled as though he were being introduced to the building, but exhibited no interest.

“Is it?” he remarked.  His tone seemed to show that had she said, “That is a rabbit,” he would have been equally gratified.

“Some day,” he stated, with the same startling abruptness with which he had made his first remark, “our war-ships will lift the roofs off those sky-scrapers.”

The remark struck me in the wrong place.  It was unnecessary.  Already I resented the manner of the young man toward the lovely lady.  It seemed to me lacking in courtesy.  He knew her, and yet treated her with no deference, while I, a stranger, felt so grateful to her for being what I knew one with such a face must be, that I could have knelt at her feet.  So I rather resented the remark.

“If the war-ships you send over here,” I said doubtfully, “aren’t more successful in lifting things than your yachts, you’d better keep them at home and save coal!”

Seldom have I made so long a speech or so rude a speech, and as soon as I had spoken, on account of the lovely lady, I was sorry.

But after a pause of half a second she laughed delightedly.

“I see,” she cried, as though it were a sort of a game.  “He means Lipton!  We can’t lift the cup, we can’t lift the roofs.  Don’t you see, Stumps!” she urged.  In spite of my rude remark, the young man she called Stumps had continued to smile happily.  Now his expression changed to one of discomfort and utter gloom, and then broke out into a radiant smile.

“I say!” he cried.  “That’s awfully good:  ’If your war-ships aren’t any better at lifting things—­’ Oh, I say, really,” he protested, “that’s awfully good.”  He seemed to be afraid I would not appreciate the rare excellence of my speech.  “You know, really,” he pleaded, “it is awfully good!”

We were interrupted by the sudden appearance, in opposite directions, of Kinney and the young man with the real hat-band.  Both were excited and disturbed.  At the sight of the young man, Stumps turned appealingly to the golden-rod girl.  He groaned aloud, and his expression was that of a boy who had been caught playing truant.