Ida clapped her hands.
"He's like poor old Grim," she cried. Then, turning to Waymark: "If
you are good, you may bring out a chair and smoke a cigar here after
dinner."
They had just began to eat, when footsteps were heard coining up the
stairs.
"Oh bother!" exclaimed Sally. "There's some one else a-comin',
s'nough."
There was. The door opened, and two gentlemen walked in. Waymark
looked up, and to his astonishment recognised his old friends O'Gree
and Egger. Mr. O'Gree was mopping his face with a handkerchief, and
looked red and hungry; Mr. Egger was resplendent in a very
broad-brimmed straw hat, the glistening newness of which contrasted
with the rest of his attire, which had known no variation since his
first arrival at Dr. Tootle's. He, too, was perspiring profusely,
and, as he entered, was just in the act of taking out the great
yellow handkerchief which Waymark had seen him chewing so often in
the bitterness of his spirit.
"Hollo, Waymark, is it you?" cried Mr. O'Gree, forgetting the
presence of the strangers in his astonishment. "Sure, and they told
us we'd find a _gentleman_ here."
"And I was the last person you would have thought of as answering
that description?"
"Well, no, I didn't mean that.
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