"He does not deserve the compliment. Shabby fellow! To keep wandering about the world as he does, and never to answer one's letters; and I sent him half a ream last time, if I sent him a sheet, telling all about baby, and asking him to come and be godfather, and coaxing him with the eloquence of a female Demos—, the man in the tub you know. And to think it should be all of no use! To think of not receiving a line in return. It is using me shamefully; and I don't believe I will call baby Rupert."
"Oh, yes you will, my dear! Well, Smithers, what is it?"
For Mr. Smithers, the butler, stood in the doorway, with a very pale and startled face.
"It's a gentleman—leastways a lady—leastways a lady and gentleman. Oh! here they come theirselves!"
Mr. Smithers retired precipitately, still pale and startled of visage, as a gentleman, with a lady on his arm, stood before Sir Guy and Lady Thetford.
There was a half shout from the young baronet, a wild shriek from the young lady. She sprung to her feet, and nearly dropped the precious baby.
"Rupert! Aileen!"
She never got any further—this impetuous little Lady Thetford, for she was kissing first one, then the other, crying and laughing, and talking all in a breath.
"Oh! what a surprise this is! Rupert my dear, my dear, I'm so glad to see you again! O Aileen! I never, never hoped for this! Guy, O Guy, to think it should all come right at last!"
But Guy was wringing his brother's hand, with bright tears standing in his eyes, and quite unable to reply.