“Ah. Denton; how do! Well, I call it pride—and after all these years.”
“Pride? What is?” said the old lawyer.
“You two trotting off in your station flies, and passing an old friend on the road without offering him a lift.”
“Why, how did you come down?”
“Same train, second-class. I’m not a first-class person. I only wanted to see that all was right for the young folks.”
Mrs Hampton bridled a little, and then smiled.
It was a pleasant social little lunch the old friends had together, the old lawyer praising the sherry highly.
“So much body in it,” he said, holding it up to the light.
“I hope not,” said the doctor drily, and Mrs Hampton looked horrified.
And so it was that there was plenty of familiar faces to welcome the happy pair, as they drove up to the gate at seven, Gertrude being kissed roundly by all, and George Harrington’s hand shaken, as pleasant allusions were made to the honeymoon.