“Please sit down, uncle,” said Philippa, greatly puzzled by the short, jerky sentences; and, so far as she could judge of the proposal, thinking about as badly of it as it was possible to do. “It is very kind of you to remember Barney, and we are most anxious to find him an opening, but I don’t know that insurance—and such a number of clerks, too! Would not a boy be likely to be lost among them, and drudge on year after year without promotion?”
“In an ordinary way, yes; but this would be different. I’m on the Board, you see—on the Board—chairman last year. Spence a personal friend. Could help him on if he stuck to his work. Don’t know the boy, but if Spence took a fancy to him, there isn’t a man in town who has more in his power. Peculiar man, Spence! Difficult temper—autocratic; but if he takes a fancy, there’s nothing he won’t do. Barney, now—what kind of a boy is Barney?”
“All kinds,” replied Philippa, smiling. She felt perfectly satisfied that Mr Spence would take a fancy to Barney, but whether that young gentleman would “stick” to his work was another and a very different question.
“He is a very handsome boy, Uncle Loftus, and full of fun and mischief. He is clever, but I’m afraid not too industrious. We hope that he will settle down and realise that he has his way to make; but he is young, as you say. Mr Spence might not have patience with him.”
“Oh, Spence would have nothing to do with him at first. He would have to obey the head of his department. Send Stephen to me to talk it over. Men understand business; girls, you know—pretty girls like you—think only of bonnets. That’s it, Hope, isn’t it? Quite right, too. Get a becoming one, my dear, and come and see me in it when it is bought. Now I must be off. Glad to have seen you all Pretty little nest at the top of the tree! Hope it may be prophetic. Hard on my legs, though. Stiff in the knees. Not so young as I was, my dears—not so young as I was.”
He went toddling out of the door, smiling and chuckling to himself, and as he descended the staircase the echo of disjointed phrases reached the girls’ ears: “Top of the tree! Ha, ha! Not so young as I was. Prophetic—eh! Hope it is prophetic.”
“Poor little mannikin!” said Philippa pitifully. “I feel like a mother to him. He daren’t even be kind in his wife’s presence, he is so kept down. How I do detest to see women snub their husbands and fathers! When I marry I intend to look up to my husband and think him the finest man in the world. I’d rather be ruled by some one stronger and wiser than myself than have it all my own way. My husband is going to be master of his own house, or I’ll know the reason why.”
She was leaning over the banisters as she spoke, listening to the departing footsteps of the “mannikin” as he trotted along the stone entrance-hall; but as she finished speaking she drew back with a gasp of dismay, for a cadaverous countenance was raised to hers from the landing immediately beneath, and the tenant who had objected to Hope’s practising stood for a moment buttoning his coat, then slowly took his way downstairs. With one bound, as it seemed, the girls were back in their own sitting-room, confronting each other with horrified, scarlet faces.
“The Hermit!”
“The author creature who writes all day and sits up all night. Do you suppose he heard?”