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The Good Sport was； so to speak； an outsize in Good Sports。 She loomed up behind the small and demure Miss Leonard like a liner towed by a tug。 She was big； blonde； skittish； and exuberant； she wore a dress like the sunset of a fine summer evening； and she effervesced with spacious good will to all men。 She was one of those girls who splash into public places like stones into quiet pools。 Her form was large； her eyes were large； her teeth were large； and her voice was large。 She overwhelmed Bill。 She hit his astounded consciousness like a shell。 She gave him a buzzing in the ears。 She was not so much a Good Sport as some kind of an explosion。
He was still reeling from the spiritual impact with this female tidal wave when he became aware； as one who； ing out of a swoon； hears voices faintly； that he was being addressed by Miss Leonard。 To turn from Miss Leonard's friend to Miss Leonard herself was like hearing the falling of gentle rain after a thunderstorm。 For a moment he revelled in the sense of being soothed； then； as he realized what she was saying； he started violently。 Miss Leonard was looking at him curiously。
'I beg your pardon？' said Bill。
'I'm sure I've met you before； Mr Chalmers。'
'Erreally？'
'But I can't think where。'
'I'm sure；' said the Good Sport； languishingly； like a sentimental siege…gun； 'that if I had ever met Mr Chalmers before I shouldn't have forgotten him。'
'You're English； aren't you？' asked Miss Leonard。
'Yes。'
The Good Sport said she was crazy about Englishmen。
'I thought so from your voice。'
The Good Sport said that she was crazy about the English accent。
'It must have been in London that I met you。 I was in the revue at the Alhambra last year。'
'By George； I wish I had seen you！' interjected the infatuated Nutty。
The Good Sport said that she was crazy about London。
'I seem to remember；' went on Miss Leonard； 'meeting you out at supper。 Do you know a man named Delaney in the Coldstream Guards？'
Bill would have liked to deny all knowledge of Delaney； though the latter was one of his best friends； but his natural honesty prevented him。
'I'm sure I met you at a supper he gave at Oddy's one Friday night。 We all went on to Covent Garden。 Don't you remember？'
'Talking of supper；' broke in Nutty； earning Bill's hearty gratitude thereby； 'where's the dashed head…waiter？ I want to find my table。'
He surveyed the restaurant with a melancholy eye。
'Everything changed！' He spoke sadly； as Ulysses might have done when his boat put in at Ithaca。 'Every darned thing different since I was here last。 New waiter； head…waiter I never saw before in my life； different…coloured carpet'
'Cheer up； Nutty； old thing！' said Miss Leonard。 'You'll feel better when you've had something to eat。 I hope you had the sense to tip the head…waiter； or there won't be any table。 Funny how these places go up and down in New York。 A year ago the whole management would turn out and kiss you if you looked like spending a couple of dollars here。 Now it costs the earth to get in at all。'
'Why's that？' asked Nutty。
'Lady Pauline Wetherby； of course。 Didn't you know this was where she danced？'
'Never heard of her；' said Nutty； in a sort of ecstasy of wistful gloom。 'That will show you how long I've been away。 Who is she？'
Miss Leonard invoked the name of Mike。
'Don't you ever get the papers in your village； Nutty？'
'I never read the papers。 I don't suppose I've read a paper for years。 I can't stand 'em。 Who is Lady Pauline Wetherby？'
'She does Greek dancesat least； I suppose they're Greek。 They all are nowadays； unless they're Russian。 She's an English peeress。'
Miss Leonard's friend said she was crazy about these picturesque old English families； and they went in to supper。
* * * * *
Looking back on the evening later and reviewing its leading features； Lord Dawlish came to the conclusion that he never pletely recovered from the first shock of the Good Sport。 He was conscious all the time of a dream…like feeling； as if he were watching himself from somewhere outside himself。 From some conning…tower in this fourth dimension he perceived himself eating broiled lobster and drinking champagne and heard himself bearing an adequate part in the conversation； but his movements were largely automatic。
Time passed。 It seemed to Lord Dawlish； watching from without； that things were livening up。 He seemed to perceive a quickening of the _tempo_ of the revels； an added abandon。 Nutty was getting quite bright。 He had the air of one who recalls the good old days； of one who in familiar scenes re…enacts the joys of his vanished youth。 The chastened melancholy induced by many months of fetching of pails of water； of scrubbing floors with a mop； and of jumping like a firecracker to avoid excited bees had been purged from him by the lights and the music and the wine。 He was telling a long anecdote； laughing at it； throwing a crust of bread at an adjacent waiter； and refilling his glass at the same time。 It is not easy to do all these things simultaneously； and the fact that Nutty did them with notable success was proof that he was picking up。
Miss Daisy Leonard was still demure； bat as she had just slipped a piece of ice down the back of Nutty's neck one may assume that she was feeling at her ease and had overe any diffidence or shyness which might have interfered with her plete enjoyment of the festivities。 As for the Good Sport； she was larger； blonder； and more exuberant than ever and she was addressing someone as 'Bill'。
Perhaps the most remarkable phenomenon of the evening； as it advanced； was the change it wrought in Lord Dawlish's attitude toward this same Good Sport。 He was not conscious of the beginning of the change； he awoke to the realization of it suddenly。 At the beginning of supper his views on her had been definite and clear。 When they had first been introduced to each other he had had a stunned feeling that this sort of thing ought not to be allowed at large； and his battered brain had instinctively recalled that line of Tennyson： 'The curse is e upon me。' But now； warmed with food and drink and smoking an excellent cigar； he found that a gentler； more charitable mood had descended upon him。
He argued with himself in extenuation of the girl's peculiar idiosyncrasies。 Was it； he asked himself； altogether her fault that she was so massive and spoke as if she were addressing an open…air meeting in a strong gale？ Perhaps it was hereditary。 Perhaps her father had been a circus giant and her mother the strong woman of the troupe。 And for the unrestraint of her manner defective training in early girlhood would account。 He began to regard her with a quiet； kindly miseration； which in its turn changed into a sort of brotherly affection。 He discovered that he liked her。 He liked her very much。 She was so big and jolly and robust； and spoke in such a clear； full voice。 He was glad that she was patting his hand。 He was glad that he had asked her to call him Bill。
People were dancing now。 It has been claimed by patriots that American dyspeptics lead the world。 This supremacy； though partly due； no doubt； to vast supplies of pie