“I am delighted to see you, sir! I fear my boat-house will have afforded you but indifferent shelter on so vile a day; such as it has been, however, you are welcome to it indeed.”
“Welcome!” exclaimed Tom.
“And why not?” chirruped the other. “Surely we who have must give to you who have not, be it roof or boot? I am sorry, however, to see you bare-footed, for you will permit me to observe that such stockings as you have on are worse than none. If you will have the goodness to come with me, you shall be shod afresh, and join me in a glass of negus before you go.”
“But, sir—”
“Tut! I know what you would say: you have trespassed already, and have no wish to trespass further. Very well, sir, so be it; you shall have your way, and pay the penalty. I condemn you to a glass of negus and a new pair of shoes.”
And with the utmost bonhomie the tiny gentleman drove Tom before him to the house, and through open French windows to a basement room where a lamp and a fire were burning, and a kettle singing on the hob.
“Hungry?” he chirped, giving Tom a playful push in the ribs.
“I had provisions in my pocket,” stammered the youth, in deep embarrassment; “I shall do very well. Indeed, your kindness—”
“Tut, sir, tut! You will please me best by saying no more about that. You are hungry, and I shall order you something upstairs. But here’s the sherry and there’s the boiling water; you can brew your own negus while I am gone; and this is today’s Advertiser. Make your-
