"A disparity of years, I grant you, my young friend," he said, graciously; "but what! the gods were young when time was. The Boy Hephæstos! what say you?"
Tommy Candy, probably for the first time in his young life, found nothing to say; but Will pronounced the scheme a most interesting one. Before going fully into it, however, he said, he was anxious to consult Mr. Pindar on a matter connected with his brother.
Mr. Pindar bowed again, still more profoundly, and crossing his arms on his breast, nodded thrice, each time more impressively than the last.
"Concerning Homer!" he said. "My father's son; my mother's fair-haired joy; in short, my brother. Gentles, say on; my ears are all your own."
"We have—learned," Will began cautiously, "that a visitor is coming here this morning whom we think Mr. Homer would greatly prefer not to see. The lady is a cousin of yours, sir; Mrs. Pryor, formerly Miss Darracott—"
He stopped, for Mr. Pindar fixed him with a gleaming eye and an outstretched forefinger, and uttered one word.
"Maria?"
"The same!" said Will.
"Maria!" repeated Mr. Pindar. "Ye gods! Strike home, young man! my bosom to the knife—strike home!"
"Mr. Homer has dreaded her coming," said Will, taking courage; "and Mrs. Tree—a—did not—was not fond of her, we will say. We thought that you might possibly help us, sir, in devising some plan by which, without being uncivil, we might spare Mr. Homer the distress which—which an interview with this lady could hardly fail to give him."