Mr. Abercrombie regarded his son with tender and smiling eyes.
"And what wonderful person will do this for you, my boy?"
"A friend of mine," replied Little Crotchet seriously.
"Well, you have so many friends that I'll never guess the name," remarked his father.
"Oh, but this is one of the most particular, particularest of my friends," the lad explained.
"I suppose you know he is getting up a great reputation among the servants," said Mrs. Abercrombie to her husband, half in jest and half in earnest.
"I know they are all very fond of him, my dear."
"Of course they are—how can they help themselves?" the lad's mother cried. "But this is 'a most particular, particularest' reputation." She quizzically quoted Little Crotchet's phrase, and he laughed when he heard it fall from her lips. "It is something quite wonderful. Since the time that he issued orders for no one to bother him after nine o'clock at night, the servants say that he talks with 'ha'nts.' They say he has become so familiar with bogies and such things that he can be heard talking with them at all hours of the night."
"Your mother has been counting the candles on you, my boy" remarked Mr. Abercrombie jokingly.