“Exactly,” said Martin with an approving glance. “And he must not be too long in the choosing.”
“Then, Mr. Martin,” said Mr. Rae, “what would you suggest for our young friend?”
But this Martin refused to answer.
“Surely there are openings for a young fellow in Canada,” said Dunn. “Take a fellow like myself. What could I do?”
“You?” cried Martin, his eyes shining with loving enthusiasm. “There are doors open on every business street in every town and city in Canada for you, or for any fellow who has brain or brawn to sell and who will take any kind of a job and stay with it.”
“Well, what job, for instance?”
“What job?” cried Martin. “Heaps of them.”
At this point a diversion was created by the entrance of “Lily” Laughton. Both Martin and Dunn envied the easy grace of his manner, his perfect self-possession, as he greeted each member of the company. For each he had exactly the right word. Miss Brodie he greeted with an exaggerated devotion, but when he shook hands with Dunn there was no mistaking the genuine warmth of his affection.
“Heard you were home, old chap, so I couldn't help dropping in. Of course I knew that Mrs. Dunn would be sure to be here, and I more than suspected that my dear Miss Brodie,” here he swept her an elaborate bow, “whom I discovered to be away from her own home, might be found in this pleasant company.”
“Yes, I fear that my devotion to her youngest boy is leading me to overstep the bounds of even Mrs. Dunn's vast and generous hospitality.”