She
swallowed down her fury, wiped her face with her handkerchief, and said
in a hoarse and somewhat shaky voice, "I came to make you an offer."
Tinker beamed on her.
"You must be tired of this beggarly life, going about from pillar to
post, living in wretched Continental hotels, with no pocket money."
Tinker raised his eyebrows.
"I know what your father's life is, just a mere penniless adventurer's."
Tinker beamed no more.
"And I came to offer to take you to live with me at Beauleigh Court.
It's a beautiful big house in the country with woods all around it, and
hunting and fishing and shooting and tennis-courts and fruit-gardens,
and a cricket-ground, everything that a boy could want."
"And you," said Tinker in the expressionless tone of one adding an item
to a catalogue.
"Yes; and me to look after you. You should have a bicycle." And she
paused to let the splendour of the gift sink in.
[Illustration: And she paused to let the splendour of the gift sink in.]
"I have a bicycle," said Tinker.
"Well--two bicycles--and a pony----"
"I don't like ponies--they're too slow," said Tinker in a weary voice.
"I always ride a horse."
"Well, you should have a horse--a horse of your own.
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