One wouldn’t flatter a child. “Oh, miss, most remarkable. If you think well of this one!”⁠—and she stood there with a plate in her hand, beaming at our companion, who looked from one of us to the other with placid heavenly eyes that contained nothing to check us.

“Yes; if I do⁠—?”

“You will be carried away by the little gentleman!”

“Well, that, I think, is what I came for⁠—to be carried away. I’m afraid, however,” I remember feeling the impulse to add, “I’m rather easily carried away. I was carried away in London!”

I can still see Mrs. Grose’s broad face as she took this in. “In Harley Street?”

“In Harley Street.”