"It is Tommy I want," says Mrs. Monkton still with a meaning eye.
"Where Tommy goes, I go," says Mr. Browne, firmly. "We are wedded to each other for the day. Nothing shall part us! Neither law nor order. Just now we are going down to the lake to feed the swans with the succulent bun. Will you come with us?"
"You are very uncertain, Dicky," says Mrs. Monkton, regarding Mr. Browne with a gravity that savors of disapproval. "How shall I be sure that if you take him to the lake you will not let him drown himself?"
"He is far more likely to drown me," says Mr. Browne. "Come along, Tommy, the biscuits are in the hall, and the lake a quarter of a mile away. The day waneth; let us haste—let us haste!"
"Where has Dicky gone?" asks Joyce, who has just returned victorious from her game.
"To the lake with Tommy. I have been imploring him not to drown my son," says Mrs. Monkton with a rather rueful smile.
"Oh, he won't do that. Dicky is erratic, but pretty safe, for all that. And he is fond of Tommy."
"He teases him, however, beyond endurance."
"That is because he does like him."
"A strange conclusion to arrive at, surely," says Dysart, looking at her.