“Yes; I offered him a cigar, and we began to chat together, and so I asked him to dine with us to-day.”
“And he refused?”
“Yes; but he has since changed his mind, and sent a message to say he 'll be with us at eight”.
“I should like to see your father's face, Kel, when he heard of your entertaining the Reverend Father Dyke at dinner.”
“Well, I suppose he would say it was carrying conciliation a little too far; but as the adage says, À la guerre—”
At this juncture, another burst in amongst them, calling out, “You 'd never guess who 's just arrived here, in strict incog., and having bribed Mike, the waiter, to silence. Burgoyne!”
“Not Jack Burgoyne?”
“Jack himself. I had the portrait so correctly drawn by the waiter, that there's no mistaking him; the long hair, green complexion, sheepish look, all perfect. He came on a hack, a little cream-colored pad he got at Dycer's, and fancies he's quite unknown.”
“What can he be up to now?”
“I think I have it,” said his Lordship. “Courtenay has got two three-year-olds down here at his uncle's, one of them under heavy engagements for the spring meetings. Master Jack has taken a run down to have a look at them.”