“This is Wellington, New Zealand, father,” Kit replied.
His father merely nodded his head and went on stroking his beard, but asked no more. It worried Kit to see how very hard he was trying to remember something, without succeeding. But it was not till they were seated in the consul’s office that he spoke again.
“There is something I don’t understand,” he said then to Kit. “And I see you don’t want to tell me; but tell me this, is anything wrong at home?”
“Not a thing, father,” Kit answered.
“Nobody dead?”
“No, indeed; nor sick, either; and in an hour or two they’ll be the happiest couple in the world, when they get my message.”
“Well, then I can wait,” Mr. Silburn answered. “I don’t know what it all means, but it’s all right, since you’re here. You’re such a big fellow, Kit; I had no idea you were such a big boy. And you’re going home with me?”
“In the very first ship,” Kit answered.
“Then it’s all right,” he said; “you can tell me when you get ready. Things are all in a muddle, somehow.”
The consul had a great many questions to ask about Kit’s voyage, and his business, and how long he was going to stay; and after a little conversation, of which Mr. Silburn took no notice, he asked one in which the former patient took a sudden interest.