"I only wish I could feel as sure of Andrew falling on his feet."
Frank's wits were wide awake now.
"Andrew!" he exclaimed. "Good heavens, do you mean to say you don't think he has fallen on his feet?"
His father shook his head dubiously.
"But, my dear father, I thought you agreed with me—agreed with all of us, I mean—that Ellen's just the—well, the—er—the—er—the nicest girl in the world."
"Oh, she's all that."
"Then what on earth do you mean?"
Mr. Walkingshaw leant confidentially over the arm of his easy-chair.
"Between ourselves, Frank, I'm rather doubtful whether she thinks Andrew the nicest man in the world."