Then I went round to a hotel and wrote a note for him,
and took it back to his lodgings, and left it for him.
I told him to pack up his things as soon as he got it,
and drive here, and make this his home--for the time being
at least."
"Then it's some old friend of yours?" said the girl.
"I know I shall like him."
Thorpe laughed somewhat uneasily. "Well--yes--he's a kind
of a friend of mine," he said, with a note of hesitation
in his voice. "I don't know, though, that you'll think
much of him. He aint what you'd call a ladies' man."
He laughed again at some thought the words conjured up.
"He's a curious, simple old party, who'd just like a
comfortable corner somewhere by himself, and wouldn't expect
to be talked to or entertained at all. If he does come,
he'll keep to himself pretty well. He wouldn't be any
company for you. I mean,--for you or Alfred either.
I think he's a Canadian or West Indian,--British subject,
at all events,--but he's lived all his life in the West,
and he wouldn't know what to do in a drawing-room,
or that sort of thing. You'd better just not pay any
attention to him. Pass the time of day, of course,
but that's all."
Julia's alert, small-featured face expressed some vague
disappointment at what she heard, but her words were
cheerful enough. "Oh of course--whatever he likes best,"
she said.
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