I glared at _him_. What right had he to criticise my manner of speech? He started to leave the room, after a perfunctory scramble to put his papers in order, but she broke off in the middle of a sentence to urge him to remain. She announced that she was calling on both of us. "Please don't stop your work on my account," she said, and promptly sat down at his typewriter and began pecking at the keys. "You must teach me how to run a typewriter, Mr. Poopendyke. I shall be as poor as a church mouse before long, and I know father won't help me. I may have to become a stenographer." He blushed abominably. I don't believe I've ever seen a more unattractive fellow than Poopendyke. "Oh, every cloud has its silver lining," said he awkwardly. "But I am used to gold," said she. The bell on the machine tinkled. "What do I do now?" He made the shift and the space for her. "Go right ahead," said he. She scrambled the whole alphabet across his neat sheet but he didn't seem to mind. "Isn't it jolly, Mr. Smart? If Mr. Poopendyke should ever leave you, I may be able to take his place as your secretary." I bowed very low. "You may be quite sure, Countess, that I shall dismiss Mr. Poopendyke the instant you apply for his job." "And I shall most cheerfully abdicate," said he. Silly ass! I couldn't help thinking how infinitely more attractive and perilous she would be as a typist than the excellent young woman who had married the jeweller's clerk, and what an improvement on Poopendyke! "I came down to inquire when you would like to go exploring for buried treasure, Mr. Smart," she said, after the cylinder had slipped back with a bang that almost startled her out of her pretty boots and caused her to give up typewriting then and there, forevermore. "Never put off till to-morrow what you can do to-day," quoted I glibly. She looked herself over. "If you knew how many times this gown had to be put off till to-morrow, you wouldn't ask me to ruin it the second time I've had it on my back." "It is an uncommonly attractive gown," said I. "Shall we set to-morrow for the treasure quest?" "To-morrow is Sunday." "Can you think of a better way to kill it?" "Yes, you might have me down here for an old-fashioned midday dinner." "Capital! Why not stay for supper, too?" "It would be too much like spending a day with relatives," she said. "We'll go treasure hunting on Monday. I haven't the faintest notion where to look, but that shouldn't make any difference. No one else ever had. By the way, Mr. Smart, I have a bone to pick with you. Have you seen yesterday's papers? Well, in one of them, there is a long account of my--of Mr. Pless's visit to your castle, and a lengthy interview in which you are quoted as saying that he is one of your dearest friends and a much maligned man who deserves the sympathy of every law-abiding citizen in the land." "An abominable lie!" I cried indignantly. "Confound the newspapers!"