“Ah, you’ve come to take him away, then?”
Before I could answer, a voice from within cried querulously: “Qui est là?”
The next moment a big frame, topped by a shaggy head, came into the anteroom.
“Hello, Alan!” I said, extending my hand.
He drew back, scowling and undecided.
“What the devil brings you here?”
“My dear fellow,” I said, smiling. “You do happen to be my own flesh and blood and, no matter how we’ve fought in the past, we’re both Littledales, to the end.”
Now, Alan had scoffed and stormed against all our traditions but, despite all, there still remained a lingering pride in the name. He relented a little bit,—though with ill grace.
“If you’re coming in to lecture me—”