"No, I suppose not. Nor how I enjoyed the storm you must have been in on the way home. Lloyd's people sent me word of your giving them the slip at Plymouth."
"But they let us," Jack put in eagerly, seizing with avidity at any point which seemed to afford him a chance to defend himself. "I didn't think, Uncle Randolph, and I'm afraid I've been a beastly cad to you. I am sorry to the very bottom of my heart."
The President took a quick stride forward and clapped one hand on his nephew's shoulder, while with the other he grasped warmly the hand Jack put out swiftly to meet him.
"There, Jack," he said, "that's all I want. You don't know what we old fools go through worrying over you young ones. Perhaps it's just as well you don't."
He gave Jack's hand a vigorous shake, and then turned away to blow his own nose with equal violence. Jack himself felt hot in the eyes, but he had no words which seemed adequate to the situation.
"Sit down," his uncle said, waving him to a chair, and then going to his desk. He took from a pigeon-hole some letters and papers. "I have several things to say to you. Mrs. Fairhew writes a very spicy letter when she wants to."
"I should think she might, sir. She can be spicy when she talks."
"She says I didn't know you were grown-up, Jack."
Jack blushed at the remembrance, vivid and sharp, of his declaration to Jerry that he would make his uncle realize that he had come to man's estate.