CHAPTER II.
OF THE CITY CIVIC.
"Delighted to see you, Mr. Simpson," said the Colonel, taking that gentleman's somewhat flabby hand, and introducing him to the others in turn. "Ah Jack, my boy, how are you? I have such a horse for you; but no spurs allowed, mind."
"All right, uncle," replied Jack, coming to the fire; "I'll remember. But how are you all? Florence, you are getting most abominably fat. Why, Milly, ain't you going to say How do you do to me?—not that way," as Mildred put out her hand. "I ask you, is that the way to welcome your long-lost cousin? Come to my arms"—a proceeding that he promptly tried to put into force, and had he not stumbled head over heels over Ethel, who from her position on the ground he had not noticed, would have succeeded in his endeavour.
As it was, like a drowning man, he clutched at the first thing that came to hand, which, happening to be Simpson's coat-tail, brought that worthy gentleman down with him, and cut short the polite little speech he was about to address to Mildred.
It was rather hard lines on the unfortunate individual, for all the way down in the train he had been (when Jack's eye was not upon him) rehearsing it, and now it was lost for ever.
"I beg your ten thousand pardons, Simpson," said Jack, struggling to his feet. "Why, it's Ethel. What on earth do you go and curl yourself up like a fox-terrier on the hearthrug for, and make people do these pantomime tricks over you? You nearly were the death of two of Her Majesty's most esteemed subjects."
"Heavy fall in shirtings," whispered the irrepressible Tom to Mildred, who was obliged to go out of the room, ostensibly to see the housekeeper, but in reality to hide her laughter.