"Mark Antony had been burying bones under Gwynne's pillow, my dear."
"Only because it was a wet day, and he never liked to go out in the rain. I daresay if he'd had time he'd have removed the bones to the garden. However, I don't suppose this youth will be like Gwynne. What do you think, dad?"
"His father was the best fellow ever stepped on shoe-leather. If the lad is like him, we shan't complain. What a handsome, dashing fellow he was! I can see him now in his scarlet and gold lace that night at Lady Westbury's ball, where I first met——"
He broke off suddenly with a little sigh. "That was another world, Pam."
"A world well lost—was it not?—dad."
"Aye, a world well lost, little girl."
It was plain to see that a tender intimacy existed between this father and daughter.
"I daresay he'll find my ways rather old-fashioned, Pam. It was an odd thing that his father should have remembered me, and have wished the lad to come to me."
"It would have been odd if he hadn't," said Pam shortly.
"There are new ways and new methods in the world since I was at Oxford. I daresay the lad'll find me rather rusty in my knowledge."