On this momentous occasion he resolutely laid in wait for Mr. Flanders near the lodge-gates. He had steeled himself against the bitterest moment in his life.
"Hello," he said, suddenly stepping out of the shrubbery and confronting the pedestrian, who brought himself up with a jerk.
"Hello," said Richard. "Getting the air?"
"I want to speak to you, Mr. Flanders," said Frederick, with immense gravity.
"Come along then, lad, because I'm in a rush. I have to catch the five-ten in to-day."
"I wish you wouldn't take such long steps." Flanders obligingly reduced his stride so that the boy was not forced to run to keep up with him. "I cut lessons, sir, to have a word with you. I just want to wish you good luck and joy, Mr. Flanders. You have won the heart and hand of the fairest lady in the land."
Flanders stopped in his tracks. "I say, youngster, that's—that's corking of you." He was blushing. "I had no idea that you children were on to us, so to speak. Thank you, Freddie."
"I have been on to you, Mr. Flanders, from the beginning. She is the loveliest lady—" he swallowed hard—"in the world, and I just wanted to tell you that if you don't treat her well I'll—I'll—well, you'll see."
Flanders was not smiling. He understood boys. He laid his big hand on the little fellow's sturdy shoulder and said, very seriously:
"I consider myself most fortunate, old chap, in having the advantage of you in years. If you were my own age, I should have stood small chance of winning the loveliest lady in the world. Shake hands, Freddie. I shall treat her well, my lad. If I fail in any particular I hope you'll take a shot at me on sight. I'm sorry, too, my boy."