Mr. Crocker hoisted himself nimbly onto the writing-desk, and sat there, beaming, with dangling legs.
"It was your letter that did it, Jimmy. Say, Jim, there wasn't any need for you to do a thing like that just for me."
"Well, I thought you would have a better chance of being a peer without me around. By the way, dad, how did my step-mother take the Lord Percy episode?"
A shadow fell upon Mr. Crocker's happy face.
"I don't like to do much thinking about your step-mother," he said. "She was pretty sore about Percy. And she was pretty sore about your lighting out for America. But, gee! what she must be feeling like now that I've come over, I daren't let myself think."
"You haven't explained that yet. Why did you come over?"
"Well, I'd been feeling homesick—I always do over there in the baseball season—and then talking with Pett made it worse—"
"Talking with Pett? Did you see him, then, when he was in London?"
"See him? I let him in!"
"How?"