The Doctor failed to understand. "Give you—?"
"A bed."
Doctor Sternroyd threw up his hands in protest. "And incur your noble father's displeasure?"
"On the contrary. He'd be deeply grateful to you for showing me hospitality."
"Ah," sighed the Antiquary, shaking his head, "you'll find me poor company, young gentleman."
"It's only for two days," said Jack lightly. "We can play chess." He turned to Marjolaine. "And every evening we'll meet in the Gazebo. I 'll whistle so:—" he executed a fragment which Marjolaine repeated, more or less—"and you 'll come out."
Doctor Sternroyd was troubled; but this young man had a way with him. "Ah, well!" he sighed, sitting down and motioning them to sit beside him. "Now you must give me full particulars: your names, ages, professions, if any—"
"How exciting!" cried Marjolaine, clapping her hands.
The Antiquary picked up one of the books. "'Epicteti quæ supersunt Dissertationes,'" he read, affectionately. "A pencil! Now, Mr. Sayle—" So they bent their heads together, and were very busy, giving the dates of birthdays, and all their histories, which Doctor Sternroyd meticulously entered on the fly-leaf of the tome.
The rain had ceased. The sun was again shining brightly, turning the rain-drops on the foliage of the elm into diamonds. The air sparkled, newly washed. The Eyesore in his corner had, for some time, been showing symptoms of discomfort. With appetites refreshed by the shower, the fish were displaying a lively interest in his bait. To be sure, they refused to swallow his hook; but they nibbled at his worm with great zest, and kept his float bobbing up and down in a manner which made it impossible for him to attend to anything else. Yet out of the corner of his eye he could see Sempronius, stretched at full length, creeping slowly, almost imperceptibly, but with deadly determination, towards the fish Jack had caught.