“Nice boy that,” said he; “he and I will be friends.”
“Remember,” said the captain, “our bargain. Do and say what you like with me, but before my children—”
“Don’t be afraid, Teddy, my boy. Depend on me for doing the high moral business. The innocent babes shall never guess that you owe me three years’ pay, and that I could walk you off to the next police station for a sharper. It’s amusing when you come to think of it, isn’t it? But, I say, it looks as if you’ll have to trouble mamma after all. The boy’s getting well in spite of his nurses. I’m really impatient to see the happy family. When shall we go?”
“Next week. We must be decent, and wait till he’s better now.”
“Oh, all right. If we can’t go to the funeral we’ll go to the birthday party, eh? It’s all one to me, Teddy, as long as you don’t make a fool of me in the long run.”
“You wait, and it’ll be all right,” said the captain, with a trace in his voice of something like desperation.
At the end of the following week these two nice gentlemen presented themselves at Maxfield. Captain Oliphant had written for the brougham to meet them, and as Tom and Jill were in it, Mr Ratman was spared the embarrassment of meeting the whole household at one time. Before the house was reached he had impressed Tom with the conviction that there was a considerable possibility of “larks” in his father’s visitor. But Jill, who had acquired the habit of contrasting every gentleman she saw with her dear Mr Armstrong, was obdurate to his fascinations.
“I don’t want to talk to you,” said she shortly, when for the twentieth time he renewed his friendly overtures. “I don’t like you, and hope you’re not going to stay long.”
Ratman took his rebuff as complacently as he could; and Jill, having exhausted her conversation with this outburst, put her hand apologetically into her father’s, and remained silent the rest of the drive.
At Maxfield, the visitor, who appeared to experience no difficulty in making himself at home, received a polite welcome from the widow, whose style he generally approved, and considered a good deal better than his gallant comrade deserved. Then, as none of the rest of the household put in an appearance, he retired serenely to his comfortable apartment to dress for dinner.