It was too late.
Her father was glaring down upon them both, with his hands behind him and his chin stuck forward.
"You miserable child!" He pronounced it deliberately, syllable by syllable, and turned upon Tristram.
"Will you kindly explain, sir, to what I owe the honour of your presence in my garden ?" Tristram, who had never before been addressed with harshness, failed to understand the tone of this speech, and answered with amiable directness-- "I tumbled in, off a flower-pot." "Indeed!" "Yes; and I stayed because I liked the girl here." "You do her infinite honour." "I'm going away now because I'm hungry.

But I'll come back again after dinner, all right." "No," said Captain Runacles grimly; "on that point you must allow me to correct you.

You infernal young cub, if I catch you here again--" "Hi! Captain!" interrupted a voice at the foot of the garden.
Doctor Beckerleg stood beside the blue gate and held it open to admit another visitor, whose dress and appearance were unfamiliar to the Captain.

He paused midway in his threat and removed his eyes from the children.

Sophia crept towards the house, while Tristram seized his opportunity and slipped away to the safe side of the privet hedge.
"Let me present," said the Doctor, "Mr.Josias Finch, of Boston, New England." "Attorney-at-law," Mr.Finch added, lifting his hat politely.
He was a little man with a triple chin and small, intelligent eyes that twinkled deep in a round, fat face.