You do speak English still, Van, eh?
Quite jolly, my boy ?' Mr.Andrew rubbed his hands to express that state in himself.

Suddenly he stopped, blinked queerly at Evan, grew pensive, and said, 'Bless my soul! I forgot.' The door opened, Mr.Andrew took Evan's arm, murmured a 'hush!' and trod gently along the passage to his library.
'We're safe here,' he said.

'There--there's something the matter up-stairs.

The women are upset about something.

Harriet--' Mr.Andrew hesitated, and branched off: 'You 've heard we 've got a new baby ?' Evan congratulated him; but another inquiry was in Mr.Andrew's aspect, and Evan's calm, sad manner answered it.
'Yes,'-- Mr.Andrew shook his head dolefully--'a splendid little chap! a rare little chap! a we can't help these things, Van! They will happen.
Sit down, my boy.' Mr.Andrew again interrogated Evan with his eyes.
'My father is dead,' said Evan.
'Yes!' Mr.Andrew nodded, and glanced quickly at the ceiling, as if to make sure that none listened overhead.