"Not as a grandmamma, Cobbs?"
"No, sir."
The boy looks on at the watering of the flowers for a little while, and then he says, "I shall be very glad indeed to go, Cobbs,—Norah's going."
"You'll be all right then, sir, with your beautiful sweetheart by your side."
"Cobbs," returns the boy, a flushing, "I never let anybody joke about that when I can prevent them."
"It wasn't a joke, sir,—wasn't so meant."
"I am glad of that, Cobbs, because I like you, you know, and you're going to live with us,—Cobbs!"
"Sir."
"What do you think my grandmamma gives me, when I go down there?"
"I couldn't so much as make a guess, sir."