"You go to bed, Anna," he said quietly, "Captain Forrest and I will have a talk. I'm sure he doesn't expect you to sit up. Eh, Forrest, don't you think that Anna had better go?"
"By all means, old chap. Nothing like bed--I'm going myself in a minute or two. Don't you sit up, Anna. Anywhere's good enough for me. I'll sleep in the greenhouse--eh, what? Your gardener'll find a new specimen in the morning and get fits. Mind he don't prune me, though. I can't afford to lose much at my time of life. You go to bed, Anna, and dream of little Willy. He's going to make your fortune on Thursday--good old Lodestar, some of 'em'll feel the draught, you bet. Don't spoil your complexion on my account, Anna. You go to bed and keep young."
He rambled on, half good-humoredly, wholly determined in his resolution to stay. Anna had never found him obstinate or in opposition to her will before, and blazing cheeks and flashing eyes expressed her resentment at an attitude so changed.
"Alban," she said quietly, "Captain Forrest will not stay. Will you please see that he does not."
She withdrew upon the words and left the two men alone. They listened and heard her mounting the stairs with slow steps. While Forrest was still disposed to treat the matter as a joke, Alban had enough discretion to avoid a scene if it could be avoided. He was quite calm and willing to forget the insult that had been offered to him.
"Why not make an end of it, Forrest?" he said presently. "I'll go to the hotel with you--you know perfectly well that you can get a bed there. What's the good of playing the fool?"
"I was never more serious in my life, old man. Here I am and here I stay. There's no place like home--eh, what? Why should you do stunts about it? What's it to do with you after all? Suppose you think you're master here. Then give us a whisky-and-soda for luck, my boy."
"I shall not give you a whisky-and-soda and I do not consider myself the master here. That has nothing to do with it. You know that Anna wishes you to go, and go you shall. What's to be gained by being obstinate."
Forrest looked at him cunningly.
"Appears that I intrude," he exclaimed with a sudden flash which declared his real purpose, "little Anna Gessner and the boy out of Whitechapel making a match of it together--eh, what? Don't let's have any rotten nonsense, old man. You're gone on the girl and you don't want me here. Say so and be a man. You've played a low card on me and you want to see the hand out. Isn't it that? Say so and be honest if you can."