Now as Jean watched from her shadowy corner, the boy carefully shifted his oil-skin packet of papers, seated himself upon the window sill and doffed his dripping cap with the air of a court gallant. And mortal ears never heard a stranger conversation.
"Good evening, Lady Cheerful!" he said deferentially, his grave brown eyes seeking the spot by the fire where Aunt Cheerful's white woolen gown glimmered faintly in the firelight.
The boy seated himself upon the window-sill and doffed his dripping cap with the air of a gallant.
"Why, good evening, Lord Chesterfield!" returned Aunt Cheerful, a wonderful warmth and affection in her voice; "I trust I see you well this evening, sir?"
"Very well indeed, I thank you, ma'am! I trust," he added very politely, "that your Ladyship is enjoying good health?"
"I am indeed. May I venture to ask your Lordship how you have found business this evening?"
Lord Chesterfield looked gravely at the dripping oilskin.
"The night is very wet," he admitted, "and business poor!"