The Squire's face showed a flush, and he looked down. "I shall be very glad to see him," he said, and went out of the room.
The next morning at breakfast time a note was handed to the Squire from Aunt Laura, asking him if he could make it quite convenient to come and see her during the day, as she wished to consult him upon matters of business.
"Matters of business!" he echoed, reading out the note. "Now it's a remarkable thing that none of the old aunts has ever wished to consult me on matters of business before, though I should always have been ready to do what I could for them. I wonder what the old lady wants."
"I think I know," said Joan.
Humphrey looked at her sharply from across the table. "You can't possibly know anything about it," he said.
"She wants to keep guinea-pigs," pursued Joan, unmoved. "She told me about some she had when she was little, and said she should like to have them again."
"Humphrey might give her a hutch for a Christmas present," suggested Nancy.
"Don't talk nonsense, children," ordered the Squire. "You might run down to her after breakfast and say I will come and see her at eleven o'clock."
At the hour mentioned he marched into Aunt Laura's parlour, bringing with him into the rather close atmosphere a breath of the cold bright winter day. "Well, Aunt Laura," he said in his hearty voice, "you want me to help you settle your affairs, eh? What about Mr. Pauncey? Shan't I be making him jealous?"
Aunt Laura, with thoughts of "refreshment" filling her mind, did not reply to this question until he was sitting opposite to her with a glass of sherry and a dry biscuit by his side. Then she said, "It will be a matter for Mr. Pauncey by and by, Edward. It is about Humphrey. I wished to consult you about doing something for dear Humphrey and the nice girl he is going to marry."