Jimmy had noticed that Spennie was not in the room. He now understood his absence. After the ride he had probably felt that an hour or two passed out of his aunt's society would not do him any harm. He was now undergoing a rest cure, Jimmy imagined, in the billiard room. "I can assure you," said he, by way of lending a helping hand to the absent one, "I really preferred to walk. I have only just landed in England from New York, and it's quite a treat to walk on an English country road again." "Are you from New York? I wonder if----" "Jimmy's an old friend," said Molly. "We knew him very well indeed. It was such a surprise meeting him." "How interesting," said Lady Jane languidly, as if the intellectual strain of the conversation had been too much for her. "You will have such lots to talk about, won't you?" "I say," said Jimmy, as they moved away, "who is that fellow Wesson?" "Oh, a man," said Molly vaguely. "There's no need to be fulsome," said Jimmy. "He can't hear." "Mother likes him. I don't." "Mother?" "Hullo," said Molly, "there's father." The door had opened while they were talking, and Mr. Patrick McEachern had walked solidly into the room. The ornaments on the Chippendale tables jingled as he came. Secretly he was somewhat embarrassed at finding himself in the midst of so many people. He had not yet mastered the art of feeling at home in his own house. At meals he did not fear his wife's guests so much. Their attention was in a manner distributed at such times, instead of being, as now, focused upon himself. He stood there square and massive, outwardly the picture of all that was rugged and independent, looking about him for a friendly face. To offer a general remark, or to go boldly and sit down beside one of those dazzling young ladies, like some heavyweight spider beside a Miss Muffet, was beyond him. In his time he had stopped runaway horses, clubbed mad dogs, and helped to break up East Side gang fights, when the combatants on both sides were using their guns lavishly and impartially; but his courage failed him here. "Why," said Jimmy, "is your father here, too? I didn't know that." To himself he reviled his luck. How much would he see of Molly now? Her father's views on himself were no sealed book to him. Molly looked at him in surprise. "Didn't know?" she said. "Didn't I tell you the place belonged to father?" "What!" said Jimmy. "This house?" "Yes. Of course." "And--by gad, I've got it. He has married Spennie Blunt's mother." "Yes." "Well, I'm--surprised." Suddenly he began to chuckle. "What _is_ it, Jimmy?" "Why--why, I've just grasped the fact that your father--your father, mind you--is my host. I'm the honored guest. At his house!" The chuckle swelled into a laugh. The noise attracted McEachern's attention, and, looking in the direction whence it proceeded, he caught sight of Molly. With a grin of joy, he made for the sofa. "Well, father, dear?" said Molly nervously.