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And yet the things that he had told her were not altogether a surprise; she had not known him for seven years without seeing signs of some other temper and spirit controlled indeed, but nevertheless there, and very different from the pleasant, happy Peter who played with the Tressiter children and dared to chaff Mrs. Brockett.
There followed then Miss Norah Monogue, a girl with a pleasant smile and untidy hair, Miss Dall, a lady with a very stiff back, a face like an interrogation mark, because her eyebrows went up in a point and a very tight black dress, Mr. Herbert Crumley, and Mr. Tressiter, two pleasant-faced, cheerful people, who sat very close together as though they were cold.
But first Peter went to pay a visit to the Tressiter establishment. He knew, from old custom, that this would be the hour when the family would be getting itself, by slow and noisy degrees, to bed. So tremendous, indeed, was the tumult that he was able to open the door and stand, within the room, watching and un-noticed. Mrs. Tressiter was attempting to bathe a fat and very strident baby.
The Tressiter children, of whom there were eight, loved Peter with a devotion that was in fact idolatry.
Tressiter, without ceasing from her work on the baby who slipped about in her hands like a stout eel, cried in a shrill voice: "Children, if you don't be quiet," or "Nicholas, in a moment I'll give you such a beating," or "Agatha, for goodness' sake!"... Then suddenly Robin, looking up, caught sight of Peter, he gave a shout and was across the room in an instant.
But Peter thought that he had known no joy so acute for years as the welcome that the small boy gave him. He hoisted Robin on to his shoulder, and there Robin sat with his naked little legs dangling over, his hands in the big man's neck. "Oh! Mr. Westcott, I'm sure..." said Mrs. Tressiter, smiling from ear to ear and wiping her wet hands on her apron Robin bent his head and bit Peter's ear.
Other persons might be seen shifting, slowly and laboriously, their estimates and standards in order to bring them into line with the youthful Tressiter estimates and standards.... Peter had his ready without any shifting. First of all the family did Robin Tressiter, aged four, adore Peter.
"Get on, horse," he cried and for a quarter of an hour there was wild riot in the Tressiter family. Then they were all put to bed, as good as gold, "you might have heard a pin drop," said Mrs. Tressiter, "when Agatha said her prayers" and at last the lights were put out. Peter bent down over Robin's bed and the boy flung his arms round his neck. "I dreamed of you I knew you'd come," he whispered.
There was a silly lump in his throat and he looked at the marble pillars and the heavy curtains through a kind of mist.... Especially was there Robin.... Mrs. Tressiter told him that Robin had something very important to say to him and that he was going to stay awake until he, Peter, came up to him.
Tressiter was always far too busy and too helpless to be of any real assistance. On this foggy afternoon, Peter, arriving at Brockett's after much difficulty and hesitation, found Robin Tressiter, on Miss Monogue's landing, with his head fastened between the railings that overlooked the hall below.
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