was also gay. Everybody was glad to see Horace, but nobody seemed
deeply interested in Horace's affairs. As a fact he had done
rather well in Germany, and had now come back to England in order
to assume a working partnership in a small potting concern at
Hanbridge. He was virtually beginning life afresh. But what
concerned Sidney and Ella was themselves and their offspring. They
talked incessantly about the infinitesimal details of their daily
existence, and the alterations which they had made, or meant to
make, in the house and garden. And occasionally Sidney thrummed a
tune on the banjo to amuse the infant. Horace had expected them to
be curious about Germany and his life in Germany. But not a bit!
He might have come in from the next street and left them only
yesterday, for all the curiosity they exhibited.

'Shall we go down to the drawing-room and have tea, eh?' said
Ella.

'Yes, let's go and kill the fatted calf,' said Sidney.

And strangely enough, inexplicably enough, Horace did feel like a
prodigal.

Sidney went off with his precious banjo, and Ella picked up sundry
belongings without which she never travelled about the house.

'You carry me down-stairs, unky?' the little nephew suggested,
with an appealing glance at his new uncle. 'No,' said Horace, 'I'm
dashed if I do!'