nterrupting exacting Twins, when he had a man of the world,
humorous, knowing, wealthy, to talk to. He tried to make opportunities
for him to escape from them; Sir Maurice missed those opportunities; he
did not seem to see them. In truth Captain Baster was a little
disappointed in Sir Maurice: he did not find him frankly responsive:
polite--yes; indeed, politeness could go no further. But he lacked
warmth. After all he had not pinned him down to the definite
acceptance of a single invitation.

When, at seven o'clock, he tore himself away with the hearty assurance
that he would be back at nine sharp, he was not sure that he had made a
bosom friend. He felt that the friendship might need clenching.

As the front door shut behind him, Sir Maurice wiped his brow with the
air of one who has paused from exhausting toil: "I feel
sticky--positively sticky," he said. "Oh, Erebus, you do have gummy
friends! I thought we should never get rid of him. I thought he'd
stuck himself to us for the rest of our natural lives."

Mrs. Dangerfield smiled; and the Terror said in a tone of deep meaning:
"That's what he's up to."

"He's not a friend of mine!" cried Erebus hotly.

"We call him the Cruncher--because of his teeth," said the Terror.

"Then beware, Erebus--beware! You are young and possibly savory," said
Sir Maurice.

"You children had better go and get ready for dinner," said Mrs.
Dangerfield.

The Twins went to the door. On the threshold Erebus turned and said:
"It's Mum he wants to crunch up--not me."

The bolt shot, she fled through the door.

Sir Maurice looked at his sister and said softly:

"Oho! I see--heroism. That was what you wanted to consult me about."
Then he laid his hand on her shoulder affectionately and added: "It
won't do, Anne--it won't do at all. I am convinced of it."

"Do you think so?" said Mrs. Dangerfield in a tone in which
disappointment and relief were very nicely blended.

"Think? I'm sure of it," said Sir Maurice in a tone of complete
conviction.

"But the children; he could do so much for the children," pleaded Mrs.
Dangerfield.

"He could, but he wouldn't. That kind of bounder never does any one
any good but himself. No, no; the children are right in calling him
the Cruncher. He would just crunch you up; and it is a thousand times
better for them to have an uncrunched mother than all the money that
ever came out of pickles."

"Well, you know best. You do understa