“I’m ready to go home when you like, papa. I’m rather tired.”
He looked at his watch.
“Nonsense! One’s not tired at two in the morning at your age. Why, I feel as fit as a fiddle. Come.”
He seized her, and before she knew where she was, whirled her into the middle of the room. He would not let her expostulate, but danced as though he would never tire. His spirits were so high that he could have shouted at the top of his voice.
When they were all three in the carriage on their way home, Canon Spratte turned to his son.
“Well, did you take my advice?” he asked.
“I didn’t have a chance,” said Lionel, discontentedly.
“Good Lord! You’re not half the man your father is.”
The Canon chuckled and rubbed his hands. He asked Winnie’s permission to light a cigar, and put up his feet comfortably on the opposite seat.
“I’ve had a very charming evening. Upon my soul, it’s wonderful what good it does a hard-working man to have a little innocent enjoyment.”