Not one of them liked to go to open the door.
Margaret rose to go and little Val cried out, “Oh, don’t you go, Margaret, dearest; let Wallis go.” But when Margaret promised to run away as soon as she had opened the door, she was allowed to go. Both Nancy and Valentine called after her, “Be sure to run back to us as fast as ever you can.”
The children sat listening with all their ears. Presently they did hear something. It was the snap of the lock, the creaking of the door, and a scrambling noise. Margaret came running back into the room quite out of breath, crying out, “Oh, such a nose! Such a dirty face! Don’t ask me anything!”
There was no time for any questions. A slow, heavy footstep was heard in the hall, then in the passage, then the parlour door opened wide and in walked the stout gentleman with the rough coat! He had, indeed, an immense nose,—both long and broad and as dark as the shadow of a hill. He stepped only a pace or two into the room and then stood still, looking at Dr. Littlepump, who was the only other person who ventured to stand up.
“I believe I have the honour,” said the stout gentleman, making a low bow, “I believe I have the honour of addressing Dr. Littlepump.”
The doctor bowed but said nothing.
The stout gentleman continued, “If I had not known it was impossible that anyone so learned as Dr. Littlepump could allow anybody to be insulted from the windows of his house, I should have felt very angry on the present occasion. It may have made merriment for our young friends here; but it is a serious thing to me.”
“Sir,” said Dr. Littlepump, “it grieves me that your feelings should have been hurt by the laughter of these children. But, sir, I can assure you no harm was meant by it. This is holiday time, and, though you appear to be a foreign gentleman, yet you are no doubt also a gentleman who has seen much of the world, and of society.”
“No, sir; no, Mr. Doctor!” exclaimed the stout gentleman, “I have not seen much of society. It is true, too true, that I am a foreigner, in some respects, but from society the misfortune of my birth has excluded me.”
“Oh, pray, sir, do not concern yourself any further on this matter,” said Mrs. Littlepump, in a courteous voice.