Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 107, December 1, 1894Various
General
Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 107, December 1, 1894
Various
English wit and humor -- Periodicals
[Illustration: "Do come and search for snowdrops!"]
_Lady Maisie._ Not just now. I think--(_as she shields her eyes with
one hand_)--I'm not quite sure yet--but I rather fancy that must be my
maid at the other end of the walk.
_Und._ (_eagerly_). _I_ assure you, Lady MAISIE, you are quite
mistaken. Not the _least_ like her!
_Lady Maisie_ (_astonished_). Why, how can you possibly tell that,
without having seen her, Mr. BLAIR?
_Und._ I--I meant---- You described her as "pretty," you know. This
girl is plain--distinctly plain!
_Lady Maisie._ I don't agree at all. However, it certainly is
PHILLIPSON, and she seems to have come out in search of me; so I had
better see if she has any message.
_Und._ She hasn't. I'm _positive_ she hasn't. She--she wouldn't walk
like _that_ if she had. (_In feverish anxiety._) Lady MAISIE, shall we
turn back? She--she hasn't seen us _yet!_
_Lady Maisie._ Really, Mr. BLAIR! I don't quite see why I should run
away from my own maid!... What is it, PHILLIPSON?
[_She advances to meet_ PHILLIPSON, _leaving_ UNDERSHELL
_behind, motionless._
_Und._ (_to himself_). It's all over! That confounded girl recognises
me. I saw her face change! She'll be jealous, I _know_ she'll be
jealous--and then she'll tell Lady MAISIE everything!... I wish to
Heaven I could hear what she is saying. Lady MAISIE seems agitated....
I--I might stroll gently on and leave them; but it would look too like
running away, perhaps. No, I'll stay here and face it out, like a man!
I won't give up just yet. (_He sinks limply upon the bench._) After
all, I've been in worse holes than this since I came into this infernal
place, and I've always managed to scramble out--triumphantly, too! If
she will only give me five minutes alone, I _know_ I can clear myself;
it isn't as if I had done anything to be _ashamed_ of.... She's sent
away that girl. She seems to be expecting me to come to her.... I--I
suppose I'd better.
[_He rises with effort, and goes towards_ Lady MAISIE _with a
jaunty unconsciousness that somehow has the air of stopping
short just above the knees_.
* * * * *
COUNTING NOSES.
[Illustration]
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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