"Thank you, sir. I guess I shall hold on to all of you too."
It took Nesta to the end of breakfast to unravel the meaning of the sudden gravity that had fallen over the party, and then she was not sure of herself.
"Why, you silly," said Eustace, to whom she appealed in private, "don't you see?—Father as good as said it—Bob is the right kind of chap to have for a chum. And so he is. I guess I know that better than any one."
"I don't see why you should," exclaimed Nesta jealously. "We all know Bob; he isn't anybody's in particular. He said himself he meant to hold on to all of us, not just one person only."
Her tone was "snubby" in the extreme, but Eustace was utterly silent for a moment.
Nesta did not know it; he would never know it himself; but there was a big difference in Eustace nowadays. He had not gone through great experiences untouched; some things in life leave an indelible impression.
"Yes," he said thoughtfully, "I'm glad he said that."
Nesta was so astonished at getting no response to her assertion that she exclaimed,—"
Said what?"
"Why, that he will hold on to us," Eustace said.