They glanced at each other inquiringly, and with a certain curiosity, for it was long since they had met face to face. Mr. Fox-Cordery was disappointed; he had hoped to see signs of wear and tear in his old friend, in the shape of crows'-feet, wrinkles, and gray hairs, but none were visible. On the contrary, there was an assertion of robust youth and good health about John Dixon which gave positive pain to Mr. Fox-Cordery.
"Good-day, Fox," said John Dixon cordially.
Mr. Fox-Cordery did not respond to the salutation. Stiffening his little body--an action which brought a broad smile to John Dixon's lips--he said in his iciest tone:
"To what may I ascribe the----"
"The honor of this visit," broke in John Dixon heartily. "I'll come to it soon. You don't seem comfortable, Fox."
"Whether I am comfortable or not," said Mr. Fox-Cordery, who would have administered a dose of poison to his visitor with the greatest pleasure in life, "cannot possibly concern or interest you."
"Oh! but I beg your pardon. Everything appertaining to Charlotte's brother must concern and interest me. It stands to reason. We shall one day be brothers-in-law. Brothers-in-law! Good Lord! Don't shift your legs so, Fox. Keep still and straight, as you were a moment ago. To a little man like you repose is invaluable."
"Your familiarity, Mr. Dixon----"
"Come, come," interrupted John Dixon, with a genial shake of his head; "why not John? I shall not take offense at it."
"Have you paid me an unwelcome visit to force a quarrel upon me?"