Part 43 (1/2)

”I'll get you some tea at once, and I have quinine in the house. Will you take some now?”

Hugo laughed. ”Your quinine would be of no earthly use to me, but I've already taken it this morning. I've got some here in my pocket. The minute my bag comes I'll go to bed--if you don't mind.”

Someone fumbled at the handle of the door, and Tony, followed by William, appeared on the threshold.

Hugo Tancred opened his eyes. ”Hullo!” he said. ”Do you remember me, young shaver?”

Tony came into the room holding out his hand. ”How do you do?” he said solemnly.

Hugo took it and stared at his son with strange glazed eyes. ”You look fit enough, anyhow,” he said, and dropped the little hand.

”I came as quick as I could,” Tony said eagerly to Jan. ”But Mr. Dauncey caught a trout, and I _had_ to wait a minute.”

”Good heavens!” Hugo exclaimed irritably. ”Do you all _still_ think and talk about nothing but fis.h.i.+ng?”

”Come,” said Jan, holding out her hand to Tony, ”and we'll go and see about some breakfast for Daddie.”

William, who had been sniffing dubiously at the man in the chair, dashed after them.

As they crossed the hall Tony remarked philosophically: ”Daddie's got fever. He'll be very cross, then he'll be very sad, and then he'll want you to give him something, and if you do--p'raps he'll go away.”

Jan made no answer.

Tony followed her through the swing door and down the pa.s.sage to speak to Hannah, who was much moved and excited when she heard Mr. Tancred had arrived. Hannah was full of sympathy for the ”poor young widower,” and though she could have wished that he had given them notice of his coming, still, she supposed him to be so distracted with grief that he forgot to do anything of the kind. She and Anne Chitt went there and then to make up his bed, while Jan boiled the kettle and got him some breakfast.

While she was doing this Meg and little Fay came round to the back to look for Tony, whom they found making toast.

”Who's tum?” asked little Fay, while Jan rapidly explained the situation to Meg.

”Your Daddie's come.”

Little Fay looked rather vague. ”What sort of a Daddie?” she asked.

”You take her to see him, Tony, and I'll finish the toast,” said Jan, taking the fork out of his hand.

When the children had gone Meg said slowly: ”And Mr. Ledgard comes to-morrow?”

”He can't. I must telegraph and put him off for a day or two. Hugo is really ill.”

”I shouldn't put him off long, if I were you.”

Jan seized the tray: ”I'll send a wire now, if you and the children will take it down to the post-office for me.”

”Why send it at all?” said Meg. ”Let him come.”

CHAPTER XXIII

TACTICS