Fifteen minutes later the
flash of a bald head, glistening in the glare of the lower hall
lantern, told him that the finest old gentleman in the world had
arrived, and on the very minute. Parkins's special instructions,
repeated for the third time, were to bring Mr. Peter Grayson--it
was wonderful what an impressive note was in the boy's voice when
he rolled out the syllables--up at once, surtout, straight-brimmed
hat, overshoes (if he wore any), umbrella and all, and the four
foot-falls--two cat-like and wabbly, as befitted the obsequious
flunky, and two firm and decided, as befitted a grenadier crossing
a bridge--could now be heard mounting the stairs.
"So here you are!" cried Peter, holding out both hands to the
overjoyed boy--"'way up near the sky. One flight less than my own.
Let me get my breath, my boy, before I say another word. No, don't
worry, only Anno Domini--you'll come to it some day. How
delightfully you are settled!"
They had entered the cosey sitting-room and Jack was helping with
his coat; Parkins, with his nose in the air (he had heard his
master's criticism), having already placed his hat on a side table
and the umbrella in the corner.
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