George by good luck happened to be alone. He affected great anger, and Margery also scolded sharply. George had been sitting at a table, bending over account books, his spirit weary, his brow knit. His assumed anger was wasted: for he caught up the child the next moment and covered her face with kisses. Then he carried her into the dining-room to Maria.
“What am I to do with this naughty child, mamma? She came bursting in upon me like a great fierce lion. I must buy a real lion and keep him in the closet, and let him loose if she does it again. Meta won’t like to be eaten up.”
Meta laughed confidentially. “Papa won’t let a lion eat Meta.”
“You saucy child!” But George’s punishment consisted only of more kisses.
“Is Meta going with you?” asked George, when Maria told him of the contemplated visit to Mrs. Averil.
Meta interposed. “Yes, she should go,” she said.
“If I take Meta, I must take you also, Margery,” observed Maria. “I cannot have the trouble of her in the carriage.”
“I shan’t hinder time,” was Margery’s response. “My bonnet and shawl’s soon put on, ma’am. Come along, child. I’ll dress you at once.”
She went off with Meta, waiting for no further permission. George stepped out on the terrace, to see what Jonathan and David were about. Maria took the opportunity to tell him of the sixty pounds which had come to old Jekyl, and that she had advised its being brought to the Bank to be taken care of.
“What money is it? Where does it come from?” inquired George of the men.