“Bacon!” said Hugh, hungrily. “I’d deal with any one who has bacon if it is fried and eggs are thrown in with it.”
“Oh,” said Lynn, “he never throws them; [p58] they’re always packed very carefully in sawdust. And he doesn’t mind how often he comes with the things you’ve forgotten, and he gives you rides on his horse, and everything. He’s really much better than that horrid Howie, and he does so want to get a piano for Blanch and Emma, and buy out Octavius and Septimus, and put his mother in, because she works too hard on the farm. You will deal with him, won’t you?”
By dint of a few questions Hugh put himself in possession of the facts, and found out that his visitors were also his nearest neighbours. He discovered, too, that he would have been called upon by the whole quartet, but that it had been considered, in family conclave, that four was perhaps too great a number for a morning call. And further, it was necessary for Miss Bibby to see some figures about the garden. So the question was solved by drawing lots, which fell, greatly to the disgust of Pauline and Muffie, to Lynn and Max.
“I know you’ll go and spoil it all,” said Pauline. “I could do it so much better.”
So Lynn was on her mettle and fought hard in Larkin’s cause.
“I tell you what we’ll do,” said Hugh, struck with a brilliant idea, “you shall come with me, and we’ll go straight up to this Larkin’s. You have made me feel that I can exist no longer without some of the prime, [p59] middle cuts of his bacon at elevenpence.”
“Oh,” said Lynn, “Miss Bibby!” She was torn between Larkin and duty.
“Oh, of course, we’ll go and ask permission first,” said Hugh; “and we might leave Trike behind, eh, Max? After a feed like that he’ll want a rest.”
Away they went out of the gate and across the road.
Miss Bibby was down at the gate, fluttering with vexation. She had just found out that two of her naughty charges had actually dared to go and trouble the sacred peace of the famous novelist, and before he could have breakfasted!