“Well, order the carriage, and go down to meet him. And don’t forget you’re to give him a good time while he’s in London; if you think he’d like to go to any particular place, take him there. You ought to know by this time that you can do as you like in those matters. Besides, I want the captain to understand who Prince Charming is, and what position he takes. You’d better interview Mrs. Currie, and tell her a gentleman is coming to stay with you, and that she is to make arrangements about his room. Give your orders, Prince Charming, give your orders.”
It happened that on the day fixed for the captain’s arrival a dinner party had been arranged at Miss Charlotte Carlaw’s house—a dinner party of the more riotous kind. The captain had decided upon so late a train that he reached London but little before the dinner hour. Comethup, who was to play his usual part in the festivities, had to be dressed in all his glory before setting out for the station; there would have been no time for dressing afterward. Thus it happened that the simple old gentleman, stepping out of the railway carriage in the dusk of an autumn evening, was confronted by a gaily dressed little figure in the costume, on a miniature scale, of a gallant of the days of Charles I, with plumed hat and lace ruffles and everything complete. Beside this figure stood a tall footman.
The captain had some difficulty in recognising his young friend, and, even when he did so, he did not appear to be quite at his ease. The footman who took his small portmanteau from his hand evidently overawed him; it is impossible to say what dream the captain had had as he travelled to town, but it is certain that he had not expected to meet the child in this fashion.
Comethup got into the carriage, and it was only then that they really began to talk to each other. Comethup had slipped one hand timidly into the captain’s and the captain’s fingers had closed over it; the man looked down at the child beside him.
“Well, little friend!” he said.
“Oh, sir,” said Comethup, with a deep sigh of content, “you don’t know how glad I am to see you! It seemed such a long time before your letter came; I thought all sorts of horrible things must have happened—that you had gone away—or—or anything. But it’s all right now, and I’m so glad you’ve come.”
“That’s good, Comethup, that’s good,” murmured the captain, more moved than he cared to show. “This is quite a holiday for me, and we must make the most of it, eh?”
“Oh, yes, we’ve arranged lots of things for you, so as to give you what aunt calls a good time while you’re in London. There’s a dinner party to-night—that’s why I was obliged to come looking such a swell, as aunt calls it; I didn’t mean to come to meet you like this, you know, but there wouldn’t have been time to dress after I got back—and a lot of nice people are coming; you will enjoy yourself.”
“I hope so, I’m sure,” said the captain. “And I’m sure I don’t mind you’re being a swell in the least, Comethup. I suppose,” he added, a little wistfully, “I suppose your aunt is very good to you?”
Comethup nodded and laughed. “There never was anybody half so good—except you, sir, of course. She gives me everything I want, and some things that I scarcely want at all. It’s really quite wonderful; I really didn’t think anybody could have so much money.”