astonishingly in the past year.
"Pop," said he firmly, as if resolved to prevent any possibility of
mistake. "Daddy," he added, continuing to play upon the theme. He
summed up. "You're my pop."
Then, satisfied that this was final and that there could now be no
chance for Kirk to back out of the contract, he reached out a hand and
gave a tug at the beard which had led to all the confusion.
"What's this?"
"You may well ask," said Kirk. "I got struck that way because I left
you and mummy for a whole year. But now I'm back I'm going to be
allowed to take it off and give it away. Whom shall I give it to?
Steve? Do you think Steve would like it? Yes, you can go on pulling it;
it won't break. On the other hand, I should just like to mention that
it's hurting something fierce, my son. It's fastened on at the other
end, you know."
"Why?"
"Don't ask me. That's the way it's built."
William Bannister obligingly disentangled himself from the beard.
"Where you been?" he inquired.
"Miles and miles away. You know the Battery?"
William Bannister nodded.
"Well, a long way past that. First I took a ship and went ever so many
miles. Then I landed and went ever so many more miles, with all sorts
of beasts trying to bite pieces out of me."
This interested William Bannister.
"Tigers?" he inquired.
"I didn't actually see any tigers, but I expect they were sneaking
round. There were mosquitoes, though. You know what a mosquito is?"
William nodded.
"Bumps," he observed crisply.
"That's right. You see this lump here, just above my mouth? Well,
that's not a mosquito-bite; that's my nose; but think of something
about that size and you'll have some idea of what a mosquito-bite is
like out there. But why am I boring you with my troubles? Tell me all
about yourself. You've certainly been growing, whatever else you may
have been doing while I've been away; I can hardly lift you. Has Steve
taught you to box yet?"
At this moment he was aware that he had become the centre of a small
group. Looking round he found himself gazing into a face so stiff with
horror and disapproval that he was startled almost into dropping
William. What could have happened to induce Mrs. Porter to look like
that he could not imagine; but her expression checked his flow of light
conversation as if it had been turned off with a switch. He lowered
Bill to the ground.
"What on earth's the matter?" he asked. "What has happened?"
Without replying, Mrs. Porter made a gesture in the direction of the
nursery, which had the effect of sending Mamie and her charge off again
on the journey upstairs which Kirk's advent had interrupted. Bill
seemed sorry to go, but he trudged sturdily on without remark. Kirk
followed him with his eyes till he disappeared at the bend of the
stairway.
"What's the matter?" he repeated.
"Are you mad, Kirk?" demanded Mrs. Porter in a tense voice.
Kirk turned helplessly to Ruth.
"You had better let me explain, Aunt Lora," she said. "Of course Kirk
couldn't be expected to know, poor boy. You seem to forget that he has
only this minute come into the house."
Aunt Lora was not to be appeased.
"That is absolutely no excuse. He has just left a ship where he cannot
have failed to pick up bacilli of every description. He has himself
only recently recovered from a probably infectious fever. He is wearing
a beard, notoriously the most germ-ridden abomination in existence."
Kirk started. He was not proud of his beard, but he had not regarded it
as quite the pestilential thing which it seemed to be in the eyes of
Mrs. Porter.
"And he picks up the child!" she went on. "Hugs him! Kisses him! And
you say he could not have known better! Surely the most elementary
common sense!"
"Aunt Lora!" said Ruth.
She spoke quietly, but there was a note in her voice which acted on
Mrs. Porter like magic. Her flow of words ceased abruptly. It was a
small incident, but it had the effect of making Kirk, grateful as he
was for the interruption, somehow vaguely uneasy for a moment.
It seemed to indicate some subtle change in Ruth's character, some new
quality of hardness added to it. The Ruth he had left when he sailed
for Colombia would, he felt, have been incapable of quelling her
masterful aunt so very decisively and with such an economy of words. It
suggested previous warfare, in which the elder women had been subdued
to a point where a mere exclamation could pull her up when she forgot
herself.
Kirk felt uncomfortable. He did not like these sudden discoveries about
Ruth.
"I will explain to Kirk," she said. "You go up and see that everything
is right in the nursery."
And, amazing spectacle! off went Mrs. Porter without another word.
Ruth put her arm in Kirk's and led him off to the smoking-room.
"You may smoke a cigar while I tell you all about Bill," she said.
Kirk lit a cigar, bewildered. It is always unpleasant to be the person
to whom things have to be explained.
"Poor old boy," Ruth went on, "you certainly are thin. But about Bill.
I am afraid you are going to be a little upset about Bill, Kirk. Aunt
Lora has no tact, and she will make a speech on every possible
occasion; but she was right just now. It really was rather dangerous,
picking Bill up like that and kissing him."
Kirk stared.
"I don't understand. Did you expect me to wave my hand to him? Or would
it have been more correct to bow?"
"Don't be so satirical, Kirk; you wither me. No, seriously, you really
mustn't kiss Bill. I never do. Nobody does."
"What!"
"I dare say it sounds ridiculous to you, but you were not here when he
was so ill and nearly died. You remember what I was telling you at the
dock? About giving Whiskers away? Well, this is all part of it. After
what happened I feel, like Aunt Lora, that we simply can't take too
many precautions. You saw his nursery. Well, it would be simply a waste
of money giving him a nursery like that if he was allowed to be exposed
to infection when he was out of it."
"And I am supposed to be infectious?"
"Not more than anybody else. There's no need to be hurt about it. It's
just as much a sacrifice for me."
"So nobody makes a fuss over Bill now, is that it?"
"Well, no. Not in the way you mean."
"Pretty dreary outlook for the kid, isn't it?"
"It's all for his good."
"What a ghastly expression!"
Ruth left her chair and came and sat on the arm of Kirk's. She ruffled
his hair lightly with the tips of her fingers. Kirk, who had been
disposed to be militant, softened instantly. The action brought back
a flood of memories. It conjured up recollections of peaceful evenings
in the old studio, for this had been a favourite habit of Ruth's. It
made him feel that he loved her more than he had ever done in his life;
and, incidentally, that he was a brute to try and thwart her in anything
whatsoever.
"I know it's horrid for you, dear old boy," said Ruth coaxingly; "but
do be good and not make a fuss about it. Not kissing Bill doesn't mean
that you need be any the less fond of him. I know it will be strange at
first, I didn't get used to it for ever so long, but, honestly, it is
for his good, however ghastly the expression of the thing may sound."
"It's treating the kid like a wretched invalid," grumbled Kirk.
"You wait till you see him playing, and then you'll know if he's a
wretched invalid or not!"
"May I see him playing?"
"Don't be silly. Of course."