Altogether they are very pleased with their new relative in perspective, and are never tired of discussing his merits, either real or imaginary.
"He looks as if he had a little spice of temper in his composition," says Molly, while hunting for her scissors. "I saw it in his eyes."
"Well, I don't like him any the less for that," replies Honor, "so long as he knows how to control it. He looks as if he was accustomed to having his own way too, and—well, as if he wouldn't stand any nonsense from anybody."
"All the better for Doris," says Molly sagely. "She wants keeping in order, you know, and he will do it. I don't mean to imply that he will beat her, or anything of that sort, Honor; but, it is as you say, I am sure he would stand no nonsense from anyone. And quite right, too. I hate people without a will of their own. Why, there's a man going up the drive to the front door!"
"Dear me, you don't say so. Probably it is the baker," and Honor goes on with her work serenely.
"Nonsense, Honor!" cries Molly, peering excitedly through the close branches. "The baker goes to the backdoor, too. It's a gentleman—a gentleman, I tell you. Come here and look!"
At this startling announcement Honor rises and looks over Molly's shoulder.
"I believe it is Hugh," she says; "only somehow he looks so much older. How long is it since we have seen him, Molly?"
"I saw him about a year ago; but I expect it is longer since you did. It was while I was in London with Mrs. Horton. Good gracious, Honor, it is Hugh, and he's got a moustache!"
This remark is called forth by the fact of the visitor having turned round on reaching the steps, and given an inquiring glance round the garden, as if in search of someone.