"My boy was punctual, I trust," Helen murmured, as Mr. Hamilton paused, feeling that of all this list of qualifications punctuality was the safest item to mention.
"Once in a blue moon, perhaps," returned Teddie's superior, "but let that pass. I like the boy, though he requires a sharp eye kept upon him, I can assure you, madam," he continued severely, resolutely checking a strong tendency on the part of his risible muscles to twitch. "He will have to make many promises of amendment for the future—reasonable ones enough, as I think you will admit."
"Mr. Hamilton," Helen interrupted gently, though somewhat proudly, "my son is not asking to be taken back. If you wish again to employ him," she added, after a pause, "I fear you must not hope to wring too many promises from him. He is so proud: it is in the Le Mesurier blood."
Mr. Hamilton shrewdly guessed that the maternal side also had bestowed the characteristic in question, but, being a wise man and a just, he saw and admitted the reasonableness of the gentle rebuff.
"Leave the boy in peace or, taking him, don't nag, you would say, madam," he replied, good-humouredly enough. "Well, I shall have him back if he will come. I have your permission?"
"I shall be very glad to know him once again safe with you," Helen replied graciously. "He is attached to you, and really felt leaving you. He bears you no grudge," she added, "owning that you could not have acted otherwise than you did, under the circumstances."
"Owned himself to be in the wrong, did he—the young scamp? I am glad to hear it. Attached to me, is he? I am fond of the boy myself. Had a son once, about his age—something of his spirit," and Mr. Hamilton turned away toward the window and blew his nose.
"Your only son?" Helen asked pitifully.
"My only child, ma'am," the old gentleman returned, somewhat brusquely.
But she was not hurt by his manner, understanding him.