Bobby looked up gravely.
'Only her and Master Mortimer. I likes them both 'normously. Isn't it a long letter? And, oh dear! if she's home I shan't see her.'
'Would you like me to take you back to your grandmother?'
Bobby slipped down from his chair and caught hold of his father's hand with imploring eyes.
'Father, dear, you won't do it, will you? You'll never let me leave you?'
Mr. Allonby took him upon his knee and gave him one of his rare kisses.
'I'm afraid I'm not good enough to be your father, sonny. You expect such a lot from me, and I can only give so little. I shall be a terrible disappointment to you all round.'
But Bobby laid his curly head against his father's shoulder and clasped him round the neck.
'I belongs to you, and you belongs to me,' he said, with infinite satisfaction in his tone, and Mr. Allonby answered, with a little embarrassed laugh:
'And finding's keeping, my little boy. We'll hold together for the present, at any rate.'