"Yes, I do," replied that gentleman, rising leisurely to his feet. "I wish to speak to you about Blake, and also I wish Blake to be present."
"Oh, I'll come," cried Reginald, springing forward with alacrity, for he guessed what the conversation would be about.
"Come then to my study," said Dr. Larcher. "Pumpkin, my child, you had better come inside, as the night is coming on."
As the three gentlemen walked towards the house, Pumpkin commenced putting the tea-things together in order to take them inside. Dick, who had risen to his feet, was staring after Beaumont with something like a frown on his fresh, young face.
"What's the matter, Dick?" asked Pumpkin, pausing for a moment.
"Eh?" said Dick, starting a little, "oh, nothing, only I don't like him."
"Whom?"
"Mr. Beaumont," said Pemberton thoughtfully. "I think he's a humbug."
"I'm sure he's a most delightful man," observed Ferdinand loftily.
"Oh, you'd think anyone delightful who praised your poetry," retorted Dick rudely, "but I do not like Beaumont; he's very clever and talks well, no doubt, but he's an outsider all the same."