“We have devoured our two next-door neighbours. There’s for you! You know Pratt the dentist had a swell hall-door and staircase, which we absorb, so we shall not eat in the back drawing-room, nor come up the flight which used to be so severe on you, Cherry.” “I can only remember the arms that helped me up. I have never left off dreaming of the dear old step springing up the stair after the day’s work, and the whistle to Theodore.” “Ah, those were the jolly old days!” returned Lance, con amore. “Unbroken,” added Clement, in the same tone. “Better than Vale Leston?” asked Gertrude. “The five years there were, as Felix called those last hours of delight, halcyon days,” said Geraldine; “but the real home was in the rough and the smooth, the contrivances, the achievements, the exultation at each step on the ladder, the flashes of Edgar, the crowded holiday times--all happier than we knew! I hope your children will care as much.” “Vale Leston is their present paradise,” said Gertrude. “You should see Master Felix’s face at the least hope of a visit, and even little Fulbert talks about boat and fish.” “What have you done with the Lambs?” demanded Clement. “They have outgrown the old place in every direction, and have got a spick-and-span chess-board of a villa out on the Minsterham road.” “They have not more children than you have.” “Five Lambkins to our four, besides Gussy and Killy,” said Lance; “though A--which is all that appears of the great Achilles’ unlucky name--is articled to Shapcote, and as for Gussy, or rather Mr. Tanneguy, he is my right hand.” “We thought him a nice sort of youth when he was improving himself in London,” said Clement. “You both were very good to him,” said Lance, “and those three years were not wasted. He is a far better sub-editor and reporter than I was at his age, with his French wit and cleverness. The only fault I find with him is that he longs for plate-glass and flummery instead of old Froggatt’s respectable panes.” “He has become the London assistant, who was our bugbear,” said Geraldine. “I don’t know how we should get on without him since we made ‘Pur’ daily,” said Lance. “How old ambitions get realized!” said Geraldine. “Does his mother endure the retail work, or has she not higher views for him?” asked Clement. “In fact, ever since the first Lambkin came on the stage any one would have thought those poor boys were her steps, not good old Lamb’s; whereas Felix always made a point of noticing them. Gus was nine years old that last time he was there, while I was ill, and he left such an impression as to make him the hero model.--Aye, Gus is first-rate.” “I am glad you have not altered the old shop and office.”