Mr. Hazlewood, who never shouted even at the naughtiest boy in his school, shuddered faintly at his son's invitation and bowed to Miss Peasey with a formality of disapproval that seemed to include her in the condemnation of all he beheld.
"Quite a resemblance, I'm sure," Miss Peasey archly declared. "Tea will be ready at four o'clock, and Mr. Hazlewood senior's room is all in order for him." Then she disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.
"A little empty, I'm afraid," said Guy, as his father looked round the hall.
"Is that water I hear?"
"Yes, the river washes the back of the house."
"And this place isn't damp?"
"Not a bit," Guy declared, positively.
"Well, it smells of bronchitis and double pneumonia."
Guy showed his father the dining-room.
"I've got it rather jolly, I think," he ventured.