At that moment Mr Hazlit walked up the path, and accosted Joe.
“Ah, you want to see my son-in-law? He had not yet returned. I expect him, however, to-day. Perhaps, if you call in the afternoon, or to-morrow morning, you may—”
He was interrupted by the sound of wheels. Next moment a carriage dashed round the corner of the garden wall, and drew up in front of the house. Before the old gentleman had clearly realised the fact, he found himself being smothered by one of the prettiest girls in all England, and Joe felt his hand seized in a grasp worthy of a diver.
While Aileen dragged her father into the villa, in order to enable him to boast ever after that he had received the first kiss she ever gave under her own roof, Edgar led Joe to a trellis-work arbour, and, sitting down beside him there, said:—
“Come, Joe, I know you want to see me about something. While these two are having it out indoors, you and I can talk here.”
“First, Mister Eddy,” said Joe, holding out his big horny hand, “let me congratulate you on comin’ home. May the Lord dwell in your house, and write His name in your two hearts.”
“Amen!” returned Edgar, again grasping the diver’s hand. “My dear wife and I expect to have that prayer answered in our new home, for we put up a similar one before entering it. And now, Joe, what is it that you want?”
“Well, sir, the fact is, that my old woman thinks since I smashed my shoulder, that it’s high time for me to give up divin’, and take to lighter work; but I didn’t know you were comin’ home to-day, sir. I thought you’d been home some days already, else I wouldn’t have come to you, but—”
“Never mind, Joe. There’s no time like the present—go on.”
Thus encouraged, Joe explained his circumstances and desires. When he had ended, Edgar remained silent for some minutes.