“No, nothing, thank you. Our baggage has all been sent off, and you have nothing to do except to sit here and give us your company, so long as you can spare the time,” Roma replied.
“Yes,” added Owlet, striking into the conversation, “you need not think we only like to see you for what you can do for us. We like to see you because we like you.”
“Thank you, ma’am; that is very complimentary,” laughed the old lawyer.
“I meant it to be,” said Owlet solemnly.
“Now, Roma, my dear,” said Mr. Merritt, as he rose to bid them good-night, “instead of meeting you at the depot at nine o’clock to-morrow morning, as I had first intended to do, I shall call here with a carriage at half-past eight to take you and the child there.”
“Oh, dear friend, do not put yourself to that trouble,” Roma objected.
“But, my child, it will give me half an hour more to spend in your company, and that will be a great boon to a poor old fellow who is about to lose you, for heaven knows how many months,” sighed the old lawyer, lugubriously.
“You take a holiday every summer, I suppose?”
“Last summer contained the first holiday I have had since my college days.”
“But you will certainly take a holiday this summer?”