“No, Freddy, I did not wonder anything of the sort. I am sure your dear papa would do that.”
“I don’t know, my dear,” Mr. Bingham said, standing on the hearth-rug, and jingling the money and keys in his trousers pockets, as was a favourite habit of his. “I don’t know, my dear, that their dear papa will do anything of the sort. He is peculiarly short of money at present.”
“There, Venerable,” Fred said, “don’t look so downcast. I will get tickets for the poor things, and as I suppose you will be wanting to go too, instead of staying quietly at home, as an old lady of your age should do, I must get one for you, too. Make up your minds which theatre you will go to, but don’t talk about it now, as you will all talk together, and then I shan’t get you the tickets at all. Settle it among yourselves out of the room, and let me know before I start.”
“There’s a dear, kind Freddy,” Mrs. Bingham said, admiringly: “he is always such a good, kind fellow.” And she looked round proudly upon the girls, who purred acquiescence.
“There, that will do, Venerable, a very little of that goes a long way; besides, I believe I have heard you say as much before. And, look here, girls, I shall expect you both to practise that glee we were singing last night, to-day and to-morrow, so as to be perfect in the evening, and not make such an exhibition of yourselves as you did last night. And now, all three of you take yourselves off at once, and make up your minds about the theatre; I want to have ten minutes talk with the pater upon business before we start.”
Mrs. Bingham rose without a word, and went out accompanied by the girls, with the parting remark, given in a decided tone, which defied contradiction, that “there never was such a dear fellow in the world.”
Fred Bingham was very kind to his mother and sisters. He was liberal in the extreme with his money, and they deservedly doted upon him. He was, it is true, excessively dictatorial in his way of speaking to them, but they obeyed all he said unquestioningly, taking it partly as fun, partly his right, the due of his extreme kindness and cleverness.
When they had left the room, Frederick Bingham turned to the father. The smile had gone from his face now, and he spoke in a cold hard business way, very different from the light jesting tone he had used to his mother.
“How long shall you be at Bayswater?”
“I should think two hours will be quite sufficient; it is not a large house.”