“I'm quite an old friend of his; have you known him long?”
“Oh! no. How long, Phyllis, since we met him at Guardy's? About a month. But he's so unaffected—quite at home with us. A nice fellow.”
Mr. Ventnor murmured:
“Very different from his father, isn't he?”
“Is he? We don't know his father; he's a shipowner, I think.”
Mr. Ventnor rubbed his hands: “Ye-es,” he said, “just giving up—a warm man. Young Pillin's a lucky fellow—only son. So you met him at old Mr. Heythorp's. I know him too—relation of yours, I believe.”
“Our dear Guardy such a wonderful man.”
Mr. Ventnor echoed: “Wonderful—regular old Roman.”
“Oh! but he's so kind!” Mrs. Larne lifted the white stuff: “Look what he's given this naughty gairl!”
Mr. Ventnor murmured: “Charming! Charming! Bob Pillin said, I think, that Mr. Heythorp was your settlor.”