Gilbert turned and looked at him. "Hullo, Tant," he exclaimed. "I'm sure I'm very glad to see you. Let me make you known to my friend—Mr. Simon Quarle."
The two nodded distantly after the introduction, and Tant stood awkwardly while Gilbert still fluttered the pages. At last Gilbert flung the book aside petulantly, and crossed over to his friend, and shook hands with him.
"What's brought you to Arcadia Street?" he asked.
"Well, as a matter of fact, my dear Gilbert, I do not come exactly on my own account, but for somebody else," responded Mr. Tant. "Mrs. Ewart-Crane wanted a message conveyed to you, and I couldn't think of your number, although, as I told her, I knew the house when once I got into this beastly locality. Consequently, here I am."
"My friend Mr. Tant doesn't like Arcadia Street," said Gilbert, turning to Simon Quarle.
"The young gentleman doesn't look as if he did," retorted Quarle, with a curling lip.
"What I always say is, 'Let us draw the line,'" said Mr. Tant severely. "However, my dear Gilbert, the message is this. The old lady—(by which term, of course, I refer not at all discourteously to Mrs. Ewart-Crane)—the old lady is anxious to get away into the country; thinks Enid is not looking well, and so forth."
"I'm sorry," said Gilbert absently. "But what can I do?"
"There's that beautiful place of yours that you leave empty so much—down at Fiddler's Green. Now, if you could let her have that——"