Peter Pax’s remarks, whatever else they might have been considered, possessed the virtue of brevity. He soon sat down amid much applause, and Mr Sterling rose to speak.
At this point Tottie, who had cast many anxious glances at a small clock which hung in the outer porch or vestibule of the hall, entreated Mrs Square to tell Pax that he was wanted very much indeed.
“I durstn’t,” said Mrs Square; “it’s as much as my sitooation’s worth. I was told by Mr Maylands, the chairman, to allow of no interruptions nor anythink of the kind.”
“But please, ma’am,” pleaded Tottie, with such an earnest face that the woman was touched, “it’s a matter of—of—life an’ death—at least it may be so. Oh! do-o-o-o tell ’im he’s wanted—by Tottie Bones. Only say Tottie Bones, that’ll be sure to bring ’im out.”
“Well—I never!” exclaimed Mrs Square, sticking her fists in her waist and leaning her head to one side in critical scrutiny of her small petitioner. “You do seem cock-sure o’ your powers. H’m! p’r’aps you’re not far out neither. Well, I’ll try it on, though it may cost me a deal of abuse. You sit there an’ see that cats don’t get at the wittles, for the cats in this court are a sharper set than or’nar.”
Mrs Square entered the hall, and begged one of the members near the door to pass up a message—as quietly as possible—to the effect that Mr Pax was wanted.
This was immediately done by the member shouting, irreverently, that the secretary’s mother “’ad come to take ’im ’ome.”
“Order, order! Put ’im out!” from several of the members.
“Any’ow, ’e’s wanted by some one on very partikler business,” growled the irreverent member, and the secretary made his way to the door.
“W’y, Tottie!” exclaimed Pax, taking both the child’s hands patronisingly in his, “what brings you here?”