When they returned to the rooms, Sir Edmund with Decima, Lady Verner by her daughter's side, the first object that met their view was Jan. Jan at a ball! Lady Verner lifted her eyebrows; she had never believed that Jan would really show himself where he must be so entirely out of place. But there Jan was; in decent dress, too—black clothes, and a white neckcloth and gloves. It's true the bow of his neckcloth was tied upside down, and the gloves had their thumbs nearly out. Jan's great hands laid hold of both Sir Edmund's.
"I'm uncommon glad you are back!" cried he—which was his polite phrase for expressing satisfaction.
"So am I, Jan," heartily answered Sir Edmund. "I have never had a real friend, Jan, since I left you."
"We can be friends still," said plain Jan.
"Ay," said Sir Edmund meaningly, "and brothers." But the last word was spoken in Jan's ear alone, for they were in a crowd now.
"To see you here very much surprises me, Jan," remarked Lady Verner, asperity in her tone. "I hope you will contrive to behave properly."
Lady Mary Elmsley, then standing with them, laughed. "What are you afraid he should do, Lady Verner?"
"He was not made for society," said Lady Verner, with asperity.
"Nor society for me," returned Jan good-humouredly. "I'd rather be watching a case of fever."
"Oh, Jan!" cried Lady Mary, laughing still.