boys wouldn't like it if I didn't. Sort of uniform to them, but
they'd be mighty uncomfortable if you wore yours. Hurry up, we
haven't a minute to lose."

Peter had forced the architect into one of the big chairs by the
fire by this time, and stood bending over him, his hands resting
on Morris's broad shoulders.

"Take the Major with you, that's a good fellow, and let me drop in
about eleven o'clock," he pleaded, an expression on his face seen
only when two men understand and love each other. "There's a
letter from Felicia to attend to; she writes she is coming down
for a couple of weeks, and then I've really had a devil of a day
at the bank."

"No, you old fraud, you can't wheedle me that way. I want you
before everybody sits down, so my young chaps can look you over.
Why, Peter, you're better than a whole course of lectures, and you
mean something, you beggar! I tell you" (here he lifted himself
from the depths of the chair and scrambled to his feet) "you've
got to go if I have to tie your hands and feet and carry you
downstairs on my back! And you, too, Major--both of you. Here's
your overcoat--into it, you humbug! ... the other arm. Is this
your hat? Out you go!" and before I had stopped laughing--I had
refused to crowd the cab--Morris had buttoned the surtout over
Peter's breast, crammed the straight-brimmed hat over his eyes,
and the two were clattering downstairs.