“It's a long time since you and I met, Miss Nugent,” he said, bowing.
“Mr. Hardy?” said the girl, doubtfully.
“Yes, miss,” interposed Mr. Wilks, anxious to explain his position. “He called in to see me; quite a surprise to me it was. I 'ardly knowed him.”
“The last time we three met,” said Hardy, who to his host's discomfort had resumed his chair, “Wilks was thrashing me and you were urging him on.”
Kate Nugent eyed him carefully. It was preposterous that this young man should take advantage of a boy and girl acquaintance of eleven years before—and such an acquaintance!—in this manner. Her eyes expressed a little surprise, not unmixed with hauteur, but Hardy was too pleased to have them turned in his direction at all to quarrel with their expression.
“You were a bit of a trial in them days,” said Mr. Wilks, shaking his head. “If I live to be ninety I shall never forget seeing Miss Kate capsized the way she was. The way she——”
“How is your cold?” inquired Miss Nugent, hastily.