“I’m only telling you what I heard her say.”

Mr. Mitchell rose convulsively and took a step towards his persecutor, breathing noisily through the criticised organ.  He was a chivalrous man, a warm admirer of the sex, but he was conscious of a wish that it was in his power to give Mary what he would have described as “hers.”  She was one of the parlour-maids, a homely woman with a hard eye, and it was part of his grievance against her that his Maggie, alias Celestine, Mrs. Pett’s maid, had formed an enthusiastic friendship with her.  He had no evidence to go on, but he suspected Mary of using her influence with Celestine to urge the suit of his leading rival for the latter’s hand, Biggs the chauffeur.  He disliked Mary intensely, even on general grounds.  Ogden’s revelation added fuel to his aversion.  For a moment he toyed with the fascinating thought of relieving his feelings by spanking the boy, but restrained himself reluctantly at the thought of the inevitable ruin which would ensue.  He had been an inmate of the house long enough to know, with a completeness which would have embarrassed that gentleman, what a cipher Mr. Pett was in the home and how little his championship would avail in the event of a clash with Mrs. Pett.  And to give Ogden that physical treatment which should long since have formed the main plank in the platform of his education would be to invite her wrath as nothing else could.  He checked himself, and reached out for the skipping-rope, hoping to ease his mind by further exercise.

Ogden, chewing the remains of the cream-puff, eyed him with languid curiosity.

“What are you doing that for?”

Mr. Mitchell skipped grimly on.

“What are you doing that for?  I thought only girls skipped.”

Mr. Mitchell paid no heed.  Ogden, after a moment’s silent contemplation, returned to his original train of thought.

“I saw an advertisement in a magazine the other day of a sort of machine for altering the shape of noses.  You strap it on when you go to bed.  You ought to get pop to blow you to one.”

Jerry Mitchell breathed in a laboured way.

“You want to look nice about the place, don’t you?  Well, then! there’s no sense in going around looking like that if you don’t have to, is there?  I heard Mary talking about your nose to Biggs and Celestine.  She said she had to laugh every time she saw it.”

The skipping-rope faltered in its sweep, caught in the skipper’s legs, and sent him staggering across the room.  Ogden threw back his head and laughed merrily.  He liked free entertainments, and this struck him as a particularly enjoyable one.