Old Peter
had ordered a cup of hot milk and had sent word that, his indigestion
being rather worse than usual, he intended to spend the afternoon
lying down. This had often happened before, and mother, though
distressed, was not alarmed.
She would not have admitted it in words to herself, but she was happy
in her _tete-a-tete_ with Petro. He had his place moved near hers.
They dared to dismiss the dignified servants and help themselves to
what they wanted. Or, rather, Petro jumped up and helped her, whether
she wanted things or not. They talked about Miss Child, and Petro
related his adventure at the Hands, which he had not, until the
luncheon hour, been able to describe in detail.
He told his mother again, several times over, how wonderful Win was,
and mother was not bored. She listened with a rapt smile, especially
to the part about the fire in the hospital room and the girl's quick
presence of mind, Win having refused to confess how she had hurt her
hands, Petro had used the influence of his name to find out tactfully
from another source, all that had happened. And he made quite a good
story out of it for his mother. The latter promised gladly to go and
see Miss Child and to wear the pearl-gray wrap, which she thought very
pretty, reflecting marvellous credit on the taste of the chooser.
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