"Of course I will," said Penelope. "But how did you manage it?"
"I'm overworked," said Bob, solemnly, "and sitting on chairs and learning Latin don't agree with me. I want more open air, I think, or I shall get consumption."
He was fat and ruddy and as strong as a bull-calf. He put his arm around Pen's neck.
"I say, Pen, I do love you," he said. "I think it's rot I'm so young, or I'd have married you myself. Granny's in an awful state about you, Pen. She asked me if I knew who it was you liked best, and she threw out hints a foot wide that I was to find out if I could."
"Indeed," said Pen; "and what did you say?"
Bob chuckled.
"I said the best thing would be for me to come and stay with you. And that's why I'm here. But I say, Pen, I'll never sneak, not even if you marry Mr. de Vere. Granny's raised my allowance ten bob a week, and I'm to have another hunter. I got too big for the pony, so I sold him to Goby; Goby looked very melancholy, but he said he wanted him badly for some reason. And he said he hoped I'd be his friend always. I like poor old Goby. I think I'll go into the park, Pen. My things will be here by and by. Couldn't we go to the theatre to-night? There's a ripping farce with a fight in it at the Globe. And will you have plum pudding for dinner, and ice meringues?"
He went into the park and met Williams there.
"I say, Mr. Williams, where's Mr. Carew?" he asked.
"Damn Carew," said Williams. "I don't know where he is, and I don't want to."