“Of course you must come and say good-by.”
“Very well then. Next Friday evening!”
It was agreed so, and just then Mrs Adair and the doctor came in, and after a little Ted rose to go.
The following Friday, as luck would have it, Basil took it into his head to remain at home, and ensconced himself in the drawing-room as if he meant to stay. When Ted arrived he was still there, and Paddy felt vexed. Her feelings, however, were nothing to Ted’s. He would gladly have picked the young man up by his collar and dropped him out of the window into the street below. After half-an-hour of vain efforts to keep the conversation going naturally, the kindly doctor himself came to the rescue.
“I’m sure these young people would like to talk over old times together without us,” he said, “as they’re not to meet again for so long. Come along, my dear, we’ll go to my room as usual, and Basil can come too.”
Basil looked annoyed, but could hardly do other than follow the others from the room, though he loftily declined the invitation to the surgery.
“Is that young man your cousin!” asked Ted when they were alone.
“Yes, but I’m not proud of the relationship,” said outspoken Paddy.
Ted only smiled. He could afford to be more magnanimous now he had gone. He got up and strolled round the room, not because he was tired of sitting at all, but because he was thus enabled to make an entirely free choice of where he would sit down again. Paddy was on the sofa, so as it is much easier to talk to anyone from the same sofa, instead of shouting from another chair, he chose the vacant space beside her. Paddy fidgeted with her hands, and again took to studying the glowing coals as if she had never seen a fire before.
“Do you know I have taken a great liberty?” he said presently.