"Why, what do you mean, child?" said he in a tone of vexation. "We have only just come!"
"But mamma wishes it."
"Mamma? But why?" he asked, shortly. "We are having a delightful talk."
"Won't you stay till evening, Mrs. Baumhagen?" asked Frank, courteously.
"My head aches a little," was the reply.
Arthur ran his hand despairingly through his hair. This "headache" was the weapon with which every reasonable argument was overthrown.
"Very well, then, do you go," he muttered, grimly. "I will come home with Uncle Henry."
"Yes, to be sure, my dear fellow," cried the old gentleman, much pleased. "I shall be very glad of your company; we will try the Moselle, eh, Frank?"
"Uncle Henry filled up the cellar for our wedding-present," explained the young host as he rose to order the carriage.
"And so richly," added Gertrude.