The only thing that prevented her relief being unmixed was the fact that she could see Lord Wisbeach casting furtive glances at Jimmy, who was eating with the quiet concentration of one who, after days of boarding-house fare, finds himself in the presence of the masterpieces of a chef. In the past few days Jimmy had consumed too much hash to worry now about anything like a furtive glance. He had perceived Lord Wisbeach's roving eye, and had no doubt that at the conclusion of the meal he would find occasion for a little chat. Meanwhile, however, his duty was towards his tissues and their restoration. He helped himself liberally from a dish which his father offered him.
He became aware that Mrs. Pett was addressing him.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Quite like old times," said Mrs. Pett genially. Her suspicions had vanished completely since Lord Wisbeach's recognition of the visitor, and remorse that she should have suspected him made her unwontedly amiable. "Being with Skinner again," she explained. "It must remind you of London."
Jimmy caught his father's expressionless eye.
"Skinner's," he said handsomely, "is a character one cannot help but respect. His nature expands before one like some beautiful flower."
The dish rocked in Mr. Crocker's hand, but his face remained impassive.
"There is no vice in Skinner," proceeded Jimmy. "His heart is the heart of a little child."
Mrs. Pett looked at this paragon of the virtues in rather a startled way. She had an uncomfortable feeling that she was being laughed at. She began to dislike Jimmy again.
"For many years Skinner has been a father to me," said Jimmy. "Who ran to help me when I fell, And would some pretty story tell, Or kiss the place to make it well? Skinner."