“Oh no.”
“No, what?”
“Mother,” said Ben a little awkwardly. He had not yet accustomed himself to his new part.
“Now, Edwin, listen attentively to what I say. I am going to take you up-stairs to see an old gentleman, an uncle of mine, in fact, who is, between ourselves, rather feeble in intellect. Whatever he asks you answer in such a way as to humor him, otherwise he will become violent. For instance he may ask you about traveling in Europe, perhaps about being sick. Fall into his humor, and don’t let him suspect that you think him queer.”
“All right—mother.”
“Remember, I trust to your discretion.”
“I will do as well as I can. What is the name of the gentleman?”
“Mr. Anderson. I call him my uncle Henry. Now follow me.”
Ben followed Mrs. Harcourt up the broad staircase, and into the presence of the frail old gentleman. Mr. Anderson looked up as they entered the room and signed for Ben to approach.
“Come here, my boy,” he said. “I have but little eyesight left. I need to have you near me.”