“I am sure I should, my boy. I really think, Tony——”
“That is all very well, Aubrey,” Tony interrupted. “I'm jolly well sure your meals are interesting. But it isn't exactly the sort of feast I mean to set the Dad down to when he does get a few days off from his little old parish. No, I think we will stick to my pub—thank you all the same, Aubrey.”
“Oh, well, if you put it that way——” Todmarsh shook hands with his visitors.
The rector's expression was rather wistful as they went out. He would have liked to share the simple meal Aubrey had spoken of. But Tony wanted him and Tony came first.
At the front door they paused a minute. Tony looked at his cousin with a wicked snigger.
“I'm really taking the Dad away out of kindness, Aubrey. There is a car standing a little way down the road, and a certain bewitching widow is leaning out talking to a couple of interesting-looking gentlemen. Converts of yours, recent ones, I should say by the cut of them.”
“Mrs. Phillimore!” Aubrey came to the door and looked out. “It is her day for visiting our laundry just down the road.”
Mr. Collyer smiled.
“Well, she is a good woman, Aubrey. We are dining with your Uncle Luke to-night. Shall we meet you there?”
“Oh, dear, no! My time for dining out is strictly limited,” Aubrey responded. “Besides, I do not think that Uncle Luke and I are in much sympathy. It is months since I saw him.”