From below at this point there came the sound of the front-door bell. Ruth went to the landing and looked over the banisters.
“That ought to be Bill and Mamie back from their drive,” she said.
The sound of a child’s voice came to Kirk as he stood listening; and as he heard it all the old feeling of paternal pride and excitement, which had left him during his wanderings, swept over him like a wave. He reproached himself that, while the memory of Ruth had been with him during every waking moment of the past year, there had been occasions when that of William Bannister had become a little faded.
He ran down the stairs.
“Hello, Mamie!” he said. “How are you? You’re looking well.”
Mamie greeted him with the shy smile which was wont to cause such havoc in Steve’s heart.
“And who’s this you’ve got with you? Mamie, you know you’ve no business going about with young men like this. Who is he?”
He stood looking at William Bannister, and William Bannister stood looking at him, Kirk smiling, William staring with the intense gravity of childhood and trying to place this bearded stranger among his circle of friends. He seemed to be thinking that the familiarity of the other’s manner indicated a certain amount of previous acquaintanceship.
“Watch that busy brain working,” said Kirk. “He’s trying to place me. It’s all right, Bill, old man; it’s my fault. I had no right to spring myself on you with eight feet of beard. It isn’t giving you a square deal. Never mind, it’s coming off in a few minutes, never to return, and then, perhaps, you’ll remember that you’ve a father.”
“Fa-a-a-ar!” shrieked William Bannister triumphantly, taking the cue with admirable swiftness.
He leaped at Kirk, and Kirk swung him up in the air. It was quite an effort, for William Bannister had grown astonishingly in the past year.
“Pop,” said he firmly, as if resolved to prevent any possibility of mistake. “Daddy,” he added, continuing to play upon the theme. He summed up. “You’re my pop.”
Then, satisfied that this was final and that there could now be no chance for Kirk to back out of the contract, he reached out a hand and gave a tug at the beard which had led to all the confusion.
“What’s this?”
“You may well ask,” said Kirk. “I got struck that way because I left you and mummy for a whole year. But now I’m back I’m going to be allowed to take it off and give it away. Whom shall I give it to? Steve? Do you think Steve would like it? Yes, you can go on pulling it; it won’t break. On the other hand, I should just like to mention that it’s hurting something fierce, my son. It’s fastened on at the other end, you know.”
“Why?”
“Don’t ask me. That’s the way it’s built.”
William Bannister obligingly disentangled himself from the beard.
“Where you been?” he inquired.
“Miles and miles away. You know the Battery?”
William Bannister nodded.
“Well, a long way past that. First I took a ship and went ever so many miles. Then I landed and went ever so many more miles, with all sorts of beasts trying to bite pieces out of me.”
This interested William Bannister.
“Tigers?” he inquired.
“I didn’t actually see any tigers, but I expect they were sneaking round. There were mosquitoes, though. You know what a mosquito is?”
William nodded.
“Bumps,” he observed crisply.
“That’s right. You see this lump here, just above my mouth? Well, that’s not a mosquito-bite; that’s my nose; but think of something about that size and you’ll have some idea of what a mosquito-bite is like out there. But why am I boring you with my troubles? Tell me all about yourself. You’ve certainly been growing, whatever else you may have been doing while I’ve been away; I can hardly lift you. Has Steve taught you to box yet?”
At this moment he was aware that he had become the centre of a small group. Looking round he found himself gazing into a face so stiff with horror and disapproval that he was startled almost into dropping William. What could have happened to induce Mrs. Porter to look like that he could not imagine; but her expression checked his flow of light conversation as if it had been turned off with a switch. He lowered Bill to the ground.
“What on earth’s the matter?” he asked. “What has happened?”
Without replying, Mrs. Porter made a gesture in the direction of the nursery, which had the effect of sending Mamie and her charge off again on the journey upstairs which Kirk’s advent had interrupted. Bill seemed sorry to go, but he trudged sturdily on without remark. Kirk followed him with his eyes till he disappeared at the bend of the stairway.
“What’s the matter?” he repeated.
“Are you mad, Kirk?” demanded Mrs. Porter in a tense voice.
Kirk turned helplessly to Ruth.
“You had better let me explain, Aunt Lora,” she said. “Of course Kirk couldn’t be expected to know, poor boy. You seem to forget that he has only this minute come into the house.”
Aunt Lora was not to be appeased.
“That is absolutely no excuse. He has just left a ship where he cannot have failed to pick up bacilli of every description. He has himself only recently recovered from a probably infectious fever. He is wearing a beard, notoriously the most germ-ridden abomination in existence.”
Kirk started. He was not proud of his beard, but he had not regarded it as quite the pestilential thing which it seemed to be in the eyes of Mrs. Porter.
“And he picks up the child!” she went on. “Hugs him! Kisses him! And you say he could not have known better! Surely the most elementary common sense—”
“Aunt Lora!” said Ruth.
She spoke quietly, but there was a note in her voice which acted on Mrs. Porter like magic. Her flow of words ceased abruptly. It was
