“Oh, you’ll grow, sir, no doubt. We may see you among the heavy-weights yet.”
“What’s Mr. Leith? Is he a heavy-weight?” vociferated Jimmy. “Just look at his arms.”
“You’ll see him use them in a minute,” observed Jenkins, covering Dion with a glance of almost grim approval, “and then you can judge for yourself.”
“You can referee us, Jimmy,” said Dion, smiling, as he pulled on the gloves.
“I say, by Jove, though!” said Jimmy, looking suddenly overwhelmed and very respectful.
He shook his head and blushed, then abruptly grinned.
“The mater had better do that.”
They all laughed except Mrs. Clarke. Even Jenkins unbent, and his bass “Ha ha!” rang through the large vaulted room. Mrs. Clarke smiled faintly, scarcely changing the expression of her eyes. She looked unusually intent and, when the smile was gone, more than usually grave.
“I hope you don’t mind our staying just for a few minutes,” she said to Dion. “You see what he is!”
She looked at her boy, but not with deprecation.