“Oh!” exclaimed Katie, prolonging that monosyllable in a sliding scale, ranging from low to high and back to low again, which was peculiarly suggestive; “I beg your pardon, I quite misunderstood you; well, you may tell Mr Welton that I will befriend Billy to the utmost of my power.”
The door opened as she spoke, and cousin Fanny entered.
“Katie, I’ve come to tell you that Mr Queek—” She stopped short on observing Nora, who rose hastily, thanked Katie earnestly for the kind interest she had expressed in her little friend, and took her leave.
“This is a very interesting little incident, Fan,” said Katie with delight when they were alone; “quite a romancelet of real life. Let me see; here is a poor boy—the boy who deceived us, you remember—whom bad companions are trying to decoy into the wicked meshes of their dreadful net, and a sweet young girl, a sort of guardian angel as it were, comes to me and asks my aid to save the boy, and have him sent to sea. Isn’t it delightful? Quite the ground-work of a tale—and might be so nicely illustrated,” added Katie, glancing at her drawings. “But forgive me, Fan; I interrupted you. What were you going to tell me?”
“Only that Mr Queeker cannot come to tea tonight, as he has business to attend to connected with his secret mission,” replied Fanny.
“How interesting it would be,” said Katie, musing, “if we could only manage to mix up this mission of Mr Queeker’s in the plot of our romance; wouldn’t it? Come, I will put away my drawing for to-day, and finish the copy of papa’s quarterly cash-account for those dreadful Board of Trade people; then we shall go to the pier and have a walk, and on our way we will call on that poor old bedridden woman whom papa has ferreted out, and give her some tea and sugar. Isn’t it strange that papa should have discovered one so soon? I suppose you are aware of his penchant for old women, Fan?”
“No, I was not aware of it,” said Fan, smiling.
Whatever Fan said, she accompanied with a smile. Indeed a smile was the necessary result of the opening of her little mouth for whatever purpose—not an affected smile, but a merry one—which always had the effect, her face being plump, of half shutting her eyes.
“Yes,” continued Katie, with animation, “papa is so fond of old women, particularly if they are very old, and very little, and thin; they must be thin, though. I don’t think he cares much for them if they are fat. He says that fat people are so jolly that they don’t need to be cared for, but he dotes upon the little thin ones.”
Fanny smiled, and observed that that was curious. “So it is,” observed Katie; “now my taste lies in the direction of old men. I like to visit poor old men much better than poor old women, and the older and more helpless they are the more I like them.”