"Certainly, sir," she replied. "You will find a handkerchief in the pocket with my initials stitched in the corner with white silk."
"All right, my dear," said Moore, looking for the pocket and not finding it immediately. "Where is the infernal--Oh, I have it!"
And inserting his hand in the elusive object of his quest he drew forth a powder puff.
"Oh," said Bessie, and vanished behind the curtains, while Moore viewed his recent find with delighted curiosity.
"Oh, I understand," he went on. "This is the frosting on the cake of beauty."
Then, carefully powdering himself, he crossed to the mirror over the mantel on the opposite side of the room and inspected the result of his labor.
"Humph," said he. "I look seasick. I'll have none of this for me."
And he industriously rubbed his face with his handkerchief.
"Oh, do hurry up," implored the girl, fearful lest some other of the guests should enter the room before she recovered her belongings.
"I was not made in a hurry," replied Moore. "The more haste the less speed, so I 'll take my time in my investigations."
The next thing he took from the pocket was a little black and white sketch of himself which had been drawn at a supper party the week before by no less distinguished a gentleman than Samuel Rogers, the banker poet.
"My picture!" he exclaimed in surprise. "How did you get this, Bessie?"
"If you must know, Mr. Rogers threw it away and I picked it up," she replied, displaying as much regard for the truth as any of her sex would be likely to under the same circumstances.
"I 'm honored, Mistress Dyke," observed Moore, bowing to the portière with formal grace and politeness. "You show much taste in your selection of works of art."
Proceeding with his search, Moore now brought to light the handkerchief, which he promptly confiscated.
"Mistress Dyke," he said, at the same time tucking away the handkerchief in his breast pocket, "I am now convinced that this is your property."
"Then give it to me at once," she directed.
"Not yet," said Moore. "If I remember correctly, I made a statement to you concerning an apology which I thought should be forthcoming to me. Well, I have n't received it as yet."
"Bully!" remarked Bessie as spitefully as she could, which was not a little.