That was a great moment, the moment of Robin’s arrival. Mr. Thrush did not appear with him, but, being a man of delicate perceptions despite his unfortunate appearance, retired discreetly to the servants’ hall, leaving his devoted adherent free for the “family reunion,” as he called it.
“Go up quietly, dear,” said the nurse to Robin, “and tap at the drawing-room door.”
“Shall I tap?” asked Robin earnestly.
He was looking unusually solemn, his lips were parted, and his eyes almost stared.
“Yes, dear. Tap prettily, like a young gentleman as you are, and when you hear ‘Come in!’——”
“I know then!” interrupted Robin, with an air of decision.
He walked rather slowly upstairs, lifting one brown leg after the other thoughtfully from step to step, till he was outside the drawing-room door. Inside he heard the noise of a man’s voice, which sounded to him very tremendous and important, the voice of a brave soldier.
“That’s Fa!” he thought, and he listened for a moment as to the voice of a god.
Then he doubled his small fist and gave a bang to the door. Some instinct told him not to follow nurse’s injunction, not to try to be pretty in his tapping. The voice of the soldier ceased inside, there was a brief sound of a woman’s voice, then came a strong “Come in!”
Robin opened the door, went straight up to the very dark and very thin man whom he saw sitting by the fire, and, staring at this man with intensity, lifted up his face, at the same time saying: