"I think," said John, sagely, "when it comes to such an amiable discussion as that between father and son, it won't be long in adjusting itself without an arbitrator. But as you ask my advice (not that anything I can say will be worth much, but as you do), I should recommend his trying the counting-house for a year or two. Anyhow, he is too young for college yet, and he can keep up his school learning during that time, in case you and he should see fit to alter your plans then."
"I never thought of such a compromise as that," said Grigson, "and I thank you for suggesting it. It will do famously."
Then, as having disburdened himself of some great trouble, he touched up the mare he was driving into a more lively pace, and in a few minutes they were at their destination.
John Tincroft knew no more of the Mumbles, nor of the dwellers thereat, than his friend had at various times told him. He was prepared, however, to find a tolerably grand house, to which his own modest home could bear no comparison, and a somewhat peremptory but hospitable old gentleman as its master. He was not mistaken in either of these anticipations, and, in addition to old Mr. Elliston, John was introduced by Grigson to his sister-in-law, who, in single blessedness, still presided over her father's household. Besides these, there were visitors at the Mumbles, of whom John had not been told, though it seemed as though his friend Tom half expected to meet them. These were the wife and daughter of Grigson's partner, Elliston—the first a rather fine lady of a certain or uncertain age, the second a young person probably about eighteen years old, just released from boarding school life apparently—"slight in figure, pallid in countenance, plain in features, and affected in manner," thought John, when he had been ten minutes in her company.
Our friend was hospitably welcomed by the host; but that some one else had been expected with Tom, either instead of, or in addition to, himself, was evident from one of the earliest questions put to his friend after the first salutations and introductions.
"Where is your son, Mr. Grigson? How is it he is not with you?"
"He will come over to-morrow, sir. He begged to be excused to-day. He is going out with his uncle, I believe. Indeed, we were not quite sure—" and Tom glanced at the lady visitors opposite.
"Umph!" seemed to rise in the host's throat, but he stifled it in its birth. "Let me have five minutes with you, Grigson," he substituted instead, and the two disappeared.
Thus left alone with the ladies, John Tincroft exerted himself, so far as his awkwardness would permit, to entertain them. Whether or not he succeeded, he was not sorry when, after the lapse of a quarter of an hour, his friend reappeared, and proposed returning. In a few minutes, therefore, after payment of adieux in the customary form, the dog-cart was remounted, and our two friends were on the way back to the Manor House.
Tom was unusually taciturn, John thought, until they had left the precincts of the Mumbles; then he broke silence.