The two gentlemen complied. Both were somewhat proud of their grip, and a bystander might have mistaken their amiable efforts to crush each other’s fingers for the outward and visible signs of true affection.
“You’d better settle up here now, Fred,” said Miss Tipping.
Flower, putting the best face he could upon it, assented with a tender smile, and, following them downstairs, held a long argument with Mrs. Chiffers as to the amount due, that lady having ideas upon the subject which did more credit to her imagination than her arithmetic.
The bill was settled at last, and the little party standing on the steps waited for the return of Miss Chiffers, who had been dispatched for a four-wheeler.
“Oh, what about your luggage, Fred?” enquired Miss Tipping, suddenly.
“Haven’t got any,” said Flower, quickly. “I managed to get away with what I stand up in, and glad to do that.”
Miss Tipping squeezed his arm and leaned heavily upon his shoulder.
“I was very lucky to get off as I did,” continued the veracious mariner. “I wasn’t touched except for a rap over my foot with the butt-end of a revolver. I was just over the wall in time.”
“Poor fellow,” said Miss Tipping, softly, as she shivered and looked up into his face. “What are you grinning at, Dick?”
“I s’pose a fellow may grin if he likes,” said Mr. Tipping, suddenly becoming serious.