"What if he doesn't?"
"Don't you fret, he's got to, because I've got his bill for it.
Mary sighed. "You're so hopeless, Uncle: if he tries to get out of it, you'll let him talk you over."
"Well, that's where you're wrong. I may be easy-going, but if it comes to parting brass-rags with Harold, or getting under Ermy's skin, I'll part with Harold."
"I wish you would part with him," said Mary.
"Yes, I dare say you do, but the trouble with you is that you've got a down on poor old Harold. But as a matter of fact he can be very useful to me. You'll sing a different tune if you wake up one morning and find I've made a packet, all through Harold White."
"I should still hate your having anything to do with him," said Mary uncompromisingly.
Chapter Three
Harold White redeemed his promise of returning the shot-gun early on the following morning by arriving with it in a hambone-case just as Ermyntrude was coming downstairs to breakfast. Following his usual custom, he walked in at the frontdoor, which was kept on the latch, without the formality of ringing the bell, and bade Ermyntrude a cheerful good morning. Ermyntrude said pointedly that her butler could not have heard the bell, but White was quite impervious to hints, and said heartily: "Oh, I didn't ring! I knew you wouldn't mind my just walking in. After all, we're practically relations, aren't we? You see, I've brought Wally's gun."
"As a matter of fact," said Ermyntrude, "it's not Wally's gun. It belonged to my first husband."
"Ah, sentimental value!" said White sympathetically. "Still, I've taken every care of it. Wally won't find his barrels dirty, for I cleaned them myself, and oiled them."