"Oh!" echoed Ridgwell and Christine, "what fun!"
"All very fine for all of you," protested Father, "but I have to go to town to-day on business, and if I cannot get past Fleet Street or the Griffin on account of all the children round it, what am I to do, and how am I to get along with my work?"
Christine and Ridgwell sidled up, one upon either side of Father's chair.
"Don't you know you ought to be very pleased?" they said.
"Why?" inquired Father.
"Because the Griffin is happy at last, he is being noticed."
The Writer laughed: the Writer was really a most unscrupulous person as to the source from which he derived amusement.
"It is a very incredible tale," remarked Father, severely.
"Most incredible," confessed Mother, with a smile.