“The boy’s had trouble,” our visitor explained. “I’m most mortified he should have performed his bad turn here. I thought he’d put it be’ind him.”
“I expect talking about old days with me brought it all back,” said Keede. “It does sometimes.”
“Maybe! Maybe! But over and above that, Clem’s had post-war trouble, too.”
“Can’t he get a job? He oughtn’t to let that weigh on him, at his time of life,” said Keede cheerily.
“’Tisn’t that—he’s provided for—but”—he coughed confidentially behind his dry hand—“as a matter of fact, Worshipful Sir, he’s—he’s implicated for the present in a little breach of promise action.”
“Ah! That’s a different thing,” said Keede.
“Yes. That’s his reel trouble. No reason given, you understand. The young lady in every way suitable, an’ she’d make him a good little wife too, if I’m any judge. But he says she ain’t his ideel or something. ’No getting at what’s in young people’s minds these days, is there?”
“I’m afraid there isn’t,” said Keede. “But he’s all right now. He’ll sleep. You sit by him, and when he wakes, take him home quietly.... Oh, we’re used to men getting a little upset here. You’ve nothing to thank us for, Brother—Brother——”
“Armine,” said the old gentleman. “He’s my nephew by marriage.”
“That’s all that’s wanted!” said Keede.