"So long as that! Yes, it must be. I remember it was just before my uncle took it into his head to go and live abroad. You look as perky as a redbreast on a snowy morning, and not a day older than when I saw you last. Missis quite well?"
"Better in health than temper, sir. As I tell her, she has too much of her own way, and that's allus bad for a woman. I made a foolish start, sir; I began by indulging her over much, and now--well, well!" He sighed and pulled down his waistcoat with an air of comic martyrdom.
Burgo laughed. "If I remember rightly, the boot's on the other leg, Benny. I believe you're a regular Bluebeard at home, and that you frighten that little wife of yours half out of her wits."
There was a humorous twinkle in Benny's eye. "It's them little mites o' women like my wife, Mr. Burgo, as are allus the most difficult to manage. Talk about tempers--lor! Now, if I had only married some big, strapping, grenadier-kind of woman----"
"You would have had the life thrashed out of you years ago. But we need not stand here. You were going this way. I'll take a turn with you. To me one road's the same as another." Then after a pause, as they paced slowly along side by side: "Have you seen anything of my uncle and his bride since their arrival home?"
"Very little, sir. You see, they don't either of them go out much. Sir Everard, I'm sorry to say, seems to be slowly breaking up. But no doubt you have observed that for yourself, sir, and think it's like my imperance to speak of it."
Thereupon Burgo proceeded to enlighten the old man to some extent with regard to the relations which now existed between himself and the inmates of No. 22.
Benny gave vent to a prolonged whistle. "Excuse my saying so, Mr. Burgo, but I'm afraid it was a bad day's work for you, sir, when your uncle brought home a wife."
Burgo shrugged his shoulders.
"I would give much to know how my uncle really is," he said, "and--and, in point of fact, to learn how affairs in general are going on at No. 22."