For the old man had come back, and was tapping the window-frame with his stick.
“What’s the matter?” said Van Heldre, throwing open the window, when Uncle Luke thrust in the basket he carried and his stick, resting his arms on the window-sill.
“Don’t keep that piece of conger in this hot room all the morning,” he said, pointing with his stick.
“Why, goodness me, Luke Vine, how can you talk like that?” cried Mrs Van Heldre indignantly.
“Easy enough, ma’am. Forgot my bit of advice,” said Uncle Luke, speaking to his old friend, but talking at Mrs Van Heldre.
“What is it?”
“Send that girl of yours to a boarding-school.”
“Bless my heart, Luke Vine, what for?” cried the lady of the house. “Why, she finished two years ago.”
“To keep her out of the way of George Vine’s stupid boy, and because her mother’s spoiling her. Morning.”