"Ah, Milly," he said; "you really are Milly, aren't you? I've just had
a most extraordinary encounter with your double. It's a most
remarkable coincidence; quite the thing for one of your novels. By the
way, how's the new one getting on?"
"Which one? I'm just correcting a set of proofs, and I'm deep in the
plot of another. That's what's taking me over to Ireland. I thought
I'd told you."
"Yes, yes; local colour you said in your letter. Studying the wild
Hibernian on his native soil; but really, Milly, when you've heard my
story you won't want to go to Ireland for wild improbabilities.
But I can't tell you now. There isn't time. We'll meet in
Bally-what-do-you-call-it next week."
"And you'll stay with me, Uncle Gilbert, won't you? The house I've
taken appears to be a perfect barrack. According to the agent, there
are any amount of spare bedrooms."
"No," said the judge; "I've taken rooms at the hotel. The fact is,
Milly, when I'm fishing I like to rough it a bit. Besides, I should
only be in your way. You'll be working tremendously hard."
Neither excuse expressed Sir Gilbert's real reason for refusing his
niece's invitation.
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