"Not at all, my dear young lady," he returned, somewhat drily, half incensed, half amused, to note that this lovely girl also, like the mother, seemed to consider all coaxing and persuading in the matter due and necessary to the independent Teddie. "Not at all; but may I inquire what it was you asked?"
"If 'young Smith' was 'the Lout,'" Hazel replied, blushing.
"I did not know him by that name," Mr. Hamilton replied, smiling in spite of himself; "but I dare say it is the same person—the epithet is not inapposite. Well, Le Mesurier," he continued, "what do you say? Like another trial, eh? But, mind, you must keep your ink-pot in your desk; and there must be no further need of raw steaks in my office—it is not a butcher's shop, you know. Is that a bargain?"
"That's all right," Teddie responded laconically. "Well, Mr. Hamilton, I'll come back; but there is one little thing I'd like to mention—a little hint to help to keep the peace. If you would not mind being a trifle more particular in the future as to the society one works with in your office."
Mr. Hamilton gasped.
"Then that is all right," Teddie said comfortably, "and I, for my part, will try to keep my temper, which, to be sure, is a bit hot when roused; though nothing can be sweeter," he added earnestly, "when people do their best, in a reasonable sort of way—I don't ask too much—to please me."
Mr. Hamilton mechanically received a cup of tea from Hugh's hand, and looked from him to Helen somewhat helplessly.
"Ted," Helen interposed, a little reproachfully, "you must expect to take your chance as to companions. And pray, of what credit is it to you to keep your temper if it is never tried—if you are never tempted to lose it?"
"I don't ask any credit, mother," her son answered, smiling affectionately upon her. "It merely struck me as a pity, being naturally, as I have said, particularly sweet, to rouse it unnecessarily."
It was now Helen's turn to look helpless.