The door by which they had come opened again, and a man’s voice cried, half in fun:
“Why on earth are you youngsters making this confounded row? Be off to bed, or you’ll be sorry for it!”
Reuben was standing under the light of a lamp, a smile on his face, as he lifted little red-haired Sidney from the ground and held him suspended by his wide sailor-collar.
“It’s Reuben, old Reuben come back!” cried the children.
An exclamation followed; the door was flung open wide; Reuben set down the child with a laugh and passed into the lighted room.
CHAPTER III.
How should Love,
Whom the cross-lightnings of four chance-met eyes
Flash into fiery life from nothing, follow
Such dear familiarities of dawn?
Seldom; but when he does, Master of all.
Aylmer’s Field.
The Leunigers’ drawing-room, in which Reuben now found himself, was a spacious apartment, hung with primrose coloured satin, furnished throughout in impeccable Louis XV. and lighted with incandescent gas from innumerable chandeliers and sconces. Beyond, divided by a plush-draped alcove, was a room of smaller size, where, at present, could be discerned the intent, Semitic faces of some half-dozen card-players.
In the front room four or five young people in evening dress were grouped, but at Reuben’s entrance they all came forward with various exclamations of greeting.
“Thought you weren’t coming back till to-morrow!”