Part 14 (2/2)
Andrew was fairly startled out of his skepticism now. He had the eyes of a goldfish, and his upper lip and swelling cheeks twitched nervously.
”What an awful thing to happen!” he murmured.
”It has happened, though,” said his father.
”But surely--oh, it must just be temporary. You don't think it will last, do you?”
”I think nothing,” replied Mr. Walkingshaw, with conviction. ”I have no settled opinions left. I am a ma.s.s of cells in active eruption.”
He began to chuckle.
”I'm like a dashed volcano, Andrew!”
His son looked at him piteously. To suffer this sea change was bad enough, but to laugh about it was diabolical. Mr. Walkingshaw could not but sober down under such an eye. He gathered his countenance into an aspect as portentously solemn as his dwindled wrinkles could achieve.
His son grieved afresh to see how their pa.s.sing diminished the once overpowering respectability of his parent.
”It's an awful predicament,” said Mr. Walkingshaw, shaking his bronzing head.
”Awful--just awful! What will people say?”
”That's just what I've been wondering. How am I going to break it to them?”
”You're not going to tell people!”
”But they'll notice for themselves.”
Andrew gazed at him gloomily.
”It may pa.s.s off,”--his face cleared a little,--”in fact, it's certain to.”
”It doesn't feel much like it at present: I'm fairly bursting with spirits,” smiled Mr. Walkingshaw, and then recollected himself and grew grave again. ”What's to be done supposing people do notice?” he asked.
”We'll just have to stretch a point,” said Andrew somberly, ”and give some other explanation.”
”We might give some decent, respectable doctor the credit for it,” his father suggested.
”They'd all be afraid to take it, if it went on any further. Imagine a respectable doctor admitting he'd made a man grow younger! I dare say they might be proud of such a performance in London, but they've more decency here!”
It seemed characteristic of Mr. Walkingshaw's calamity that he should bounce up like a tennis ball after each well-meant effort to depress him.
”In that case,” said he cheerfully, ”we'll just have to say I am trying to make myself more of a companion for you.”
Andrew started violently.
”We'll say no such thing! Do you suppose _I'm_ going to have my name mixed up with it?”
His father remained serene.
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