Mr. Froggatt was amazed beyond measure, and it was only on hearing the ring of the mirthful laugh that he exclaimed, 'Mr. Edgar! This is an alteration! You will find the young ladies up-stairs.'
Felix was disengaged at the moment, and could take him through the parlour, too glad to have him there at all to utter the faintest wish that he would have rung at the private door; and he ushered him into the drawing-room with the words, 'Here's the artist who has begun with himself;' and then retreated.
'Edgar! oh, you wonderful boy!' cried happy Geraldine, as he threw his arms round her; while Alda asked:
'Is that the thing now, Edgar?'
'Quite comifo,' he answered. 'Ha, little ones, have you forgotten me?'
'Stella says you're the clarionet in the brass band,' said Bernard. 'What have you got in that pack?'
'Munitions of war!' he answered, unstrapping his bag, and producing packets of French bon-bons, bought on his way home, from the sketching tour Mr. Renville always made with sundry of his pupils in early autumn. 'Gobble them up, little mice, before the cat comes home.'
Stella paused with a dutiful 'May I?' and Cherry had to interfere between the little maiden's scruples, Bernard's omnivorous inclination, and Theodore's terror at any new article of food; while Alda and Edgar exchanged eager question and answer:
'You've been at home. You've seen them all?'
'I dined there on Sunday—might do so any day; they can't do without me, that's a fact.'