“Ah!” he began, “what’s to be done now?” His rosy, John Bull face was unrecognizably worried, but it suddenly lighted up. “What, the little girl too?”
I had sprung away—I hope!—before he could have noticed that there, in that most official-looking of offices, I had been sitting on his nephew’s knee; but I was still so fluttered that I could think of nothing to do but offer the old gentleman my cheek! At all events, he was absurdly pleased.
“Nancy, my dear!... But what brought you back to London?”
“Furnishing,” said Billy, without a quiver.
“Glad to hear it, my boy! First bit of good news to-day,” said Mr. Waters, turning grave again. “I say, Billy! About this——”
“I’m going,” I said quickly, picking my hat up from the side-table where it had been tossed down as upon a gorse-bush. “I only meant to stay a minute.”
“Nancy—I say!” came resentfully from the desk.
“I’ll be in the waiting-room, then,” I promised. “Or, if I may, I’ll go and look up Miss Robinson and the girls while you talk over your business.”
I don’t know why, exactly. Only I felt I must see those three girls again with this new look on my face. They might not know the difference! Still—I walked to the door.