“Yes! Let us be friends! I’ll be friends! I like you!”
There was no resisting that sparkling, cordial smile—that earnest, confiding manner, and Magnus closed his hand upon the child’s hand, pressing it kindly.
“Godfather, why don’t you ask the good-looking gentleman to sit down, and why don’t you ring the bell and have wine brought for him like you did for Mr. Judge Jacky? Sit down, gentleman, in that armchair, and I will go and ring the bell,” she said, jumping down and running to the bell-rope, which she pulled vigorously.
“Will you be seated, sir?” said General Garnet ironically.
“Will you first take my hand, General Garnet?”
“No, sir! To forbear is the utmost limit of my self-control. I cannot go further, and forgive. Yet you are in my house—standing by my fireside. While you bestow upon us your presence, I beg you be seated.”
Magnus waved his hand in rejection of this invitation and turned to go, but Nettie, returning from her vociferous bell-ringing, stopped him by seizing both his hands and leaning up against him as she exclaimed:
“No! you mustn’t go till you get something—I hear a boy coming now.”
And at this moment, indeed, the door was opened, and a waiter appeared in answer to the noisy summons.
“Get some good wine and some sort o’ witches—you make with bread and butter and ham—sandwitches, and bring up here for this gentleman. And make haste, you hear, because he is in a hurry,” said Nettie to the waiter.