He was not altogether pleased with this letter, but it would have to do. If he had had any idea what the advertiser wanted intelligent young men for, he might have been able to state his qualifications better. But what was the use of saying “I think I shall suit you,” when possibly he might not suit after all?
He addressed the letter carefully, and wrote “private and confidential” on the envelope; and then walked out to post it, just in time, after doing so, to meet his mother and Horace returning from their excursion.
“Well, Reg, have you written your letter?” said his mother, cheerily. “Was it to some old schoolfellow?”
“No, mother,” said Reginald, in a tone which meant, “I would rather you did not ask me.” And Mrs Cruden did not ask.
“I think,” said she, as they stopped at their door—“I almost think, boys, we ought to return the Shucklefords’ call. It’s only nine o’clock. We might go in for a few minutes. I know you don’t care about it; but we must not be rude, you know. What do you think, Reg?”
Reg sighed and groaned and said, “If we must we must”; and so, instead of going in at their own door, they knocked at the next.
The tinkle of a piano upstairs, and the sound of Sam’s voice, audible even in the street, announced only too unmistakably that the family was at home, and a collection of pot hats and shawls in the hall betrayed the appalling fact, when it was too late to retreat, that the Shucklefords had visitors! Mrs Shuckleford came out and received them with open arms.
“’Ow ’appy I am to see you and the boys,” said she. “I suppose you saw the extra lights and came in. Very neighbourly it was. We thought about sending you an invite, but didn’t like while you was in black for your ’usband. But it’s all the same now you’re here. Very ’appy to see you. Jemima, my dear, come and tell Mrs Cruden and the boys you’re ’appy to see them; Sam too—it’s Sam’s majority, Mrs Cruden; twenty-one he is to-day, and his pa all over—oh, ’ow ’appy I am you’ve come.”
“We had no idea you had friends,” said Mrs Cruden, nervously. “We’ll call again, please.”
“No you don’t, Mrs Cruden,” said the effusive Mrs Shuckleford; “’ere you are, and ’ere you stays—I am so ’appy to see you. You and I can ’ave a cosy chat in the corner while the young folk enjoy theirselves. Jemima, put a chair for Mrs C. alongside o’ mine; and, Sam, take the boys and see they have some one to talk to ’em.”