Betty gave a little shriek of dismay, but the twins exchanged glances of subdued admiration. They liked to hear a thing done really well, and the General’s denunciation was a triumph of its kind. But when asked if he were not thoroughly ashamed of himself, Jack showed the courage of his opinion.
“Sorry!” he declared. “I said so before, sir, but not ashamed. We wouldn’t have been bribed to hurt you, and I’ll apologise as much as you like, but we were doing nothing wrong. It was only a joke.”
“Joke!” screamed the old gentleman. “Joke!” He rolled his protruding eyes towards the ceiling, and gasped and spluttered in disgust. “Is that what you call a joke? I don’t know what this country is coming to! Have you nothing better to do with your time, young sir, than to prowl about the streets playing monkey tricks on innocent passers-by? I am sorry for you if that is your best idea of enjoyment.”
“Boys will be boys!” said Jack, in his quaint, sententious fashion. “We can only be young once, sir, so we might as well make the most of it while we can.”
“Besides, we weren’t prowling about in the street!” cried Jill, suddenly bursting into the conversation, her determination to keep silent melting away before what she was pleased to consider a slight on her dignity. “Mother wouldn’t allow such a thing. The Square is private property. We have a key, and she knows we are perfectly safe when we are there.”
“But, by Jove, other people are not! You manage to get into mischief though you are railed up!” cried the victim, and a sort of spasm passed over his face, as of a smile violently suppressed. He glared at Jill, from her to Betty, from Betty to Jack, and then let his glance wander round the room—the big, handsome apartment so sparsely filled with the furniture of a smaller house. The sideboard looked poor and insignificant in the recess designed for one twice the size; the few pictures entirely failed to hide the marks of the places where the last tenant had hung his more generous supply. The carpet covered only two-thirds of the floor, and was eked out by linoleum. To the most unobservant eye it must have been evident that the owner of this house was a man whose means were so limited that the strictest economy was necessary in the management of his household.
“Ha—ho—hum!” coughed the old gentleman suddenly. “Have you ever heard of such a thing as the Employers’ Liability Act?”
The girls shook their heads. Jack had glimmering ideas on the subject.
“It’s a sort of—er—of insurance, isn’t it? If a workman fellow drops a sack on your head, the other fellow has to pay up, so he pays the insurance fellow to do it for him. That’s the sort of thing, isn’t it, sir?”
“That is the sort of thing, sir, expressed with your natural elegance of diction. Does your father contract with an ‘insurance fellow,’ may I ask?”