feel?"
And before the new-comer could reply to this greeting all the other
eyes were turned upon him, with expressions of surprise and
bewilderment.
"You! What brings you here?"
"What brings _you_ here?"
Mrs. Bosher's brother was the only person who remained calm. "What's
the matter?" said he. "Are you old friends or old enemies?"
"It is so odd," said Mitchell; "I can't make it out."
"Well, shake hands," cried Roberts; and he shook hands all round.
When that was over Mr. Rowles said he would like to know what it was
all about, and so at last matters were explained.
"It is Daniel Roberts, who married my poor sister Nan, that died nine
years come the 1st of November." While Mitchell said this he was
gazing harder than ever at Roberts.
"Why did you never tell me his name?" Mrs. Mitchell asked of Juliet.
"I did," Juliet replied. "I always called him Mr. Robert."
"Ain't he Mr. Robert then?" asked Rowles, still perplexed.
"No," said the butler; "I am Daniel Roberts. Roberts is my surname,
and Robert is not my Christian name. But some people have no ear for
music, and can't hear an S when it is at the end of the word."
Mrs. Mitchell turned to her children. "It is your Uncle Roberts. I
_am_ surprised at finding him here. Why, Daniel, Mrs. Johnson said she
thought it was partly owing to you that Mr. Burnet had us brought down
here."
"So it was, Mary. But, mind you, I did not know it was you. That girl
there, they called her Juliet, and then they talked about Juliet's
father being a printer and out of health, and all that; and I thinks
to myself that there was Mitchell, poor Nan's brother, who was a
printer, and I should not like to think that he was out of health and
out of work, and that gave me a kind of feeling for all printers, and
I put in a word for Juliet's father. But I little thought that
Juliet's father was poor Nan's brother."
"Ain't you glad, man?" said Mrs. Bosher's brother, giving a squeeze to
Roberts's rheumatic arm; "ain't you glad?"
"Glad--oh, it's agony!--yes, glad as I can be."
"Well, I can't make it out now!" said Mitchell, taking off his hat to
cool his head. "Just to think that Mr. Robert the butler is my
brother-in-law!"
"Are you sorry, man?" roared Mrs. Bosher's brother, putting his great
rose into Mitchell's face; "are you sorry?"
"Sorry!--phew, it's delicious, but stifling--no, I'm certainly not
sorry."
"Then get into the boat, and do the rest of your talki
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