"Leave the lad alone," said Mr. George. "Let him go as he is."
"No," said Aunt Matilda. "He has his father's handsome presence. Let him make the best of himself. I think I'll go to the concert after all."
After dinner there was a bustle. Monica flew up to light his candle for him, and stood there peering behind the flame when he came upstairs.
"You haven't much time," she said, as if she were going to spear him.
"All right," he answered, in his hoarse young voice. And he stood in torment till she left his room.
He was just tying his tie when there came a flutter and a tapping. Aunt Matilda's voice saying: "Nearly time. Are you almost ready?"
"Half a minute!" he crowed hoarsely, like an unhappy young cock.
But the door stealthily opened, and Aunt Matilda peeped in.
"Oh, tying his tie!" she said, satisfactorily, when she perceived that he was dressed as far as discretion demanded. And she entered in full blow. Behind her hovered Grace—then Monica—and in the doorway Mary. It seemed to Jack that Aunt Matilda was the most objectionable of the lot, Monica the brazenest, Grace the most ill-mannered, and Mary the most repulsive, with her dark face. He struggled in discomfort with his tie.
"Let Mary do it," said Aunt Matilda.