"A good many things," she said. "Florrie and poor Billy Stark."
"You'll miss her, grannie!"
"Not long, son. And I'm very glad she's gone. Florrie never was one to bear old age. She'd have had to meet it soon!"
Osmond smiled tenderly at the ingenuous implication, but then he bethought him it was true. Madam Fulton never had been old. Grannie put out her hand to his.
"I've been thinking of you, son, all the morning. I hoped you'd come."
"Yes, grannie. I couldn't come before."
"No. You look like a new man."
"I am a new man, grannie."
He gave the kind hand a little tight grasp, and left her. Peter was coming with the glass of water, and Peter, too, had a morning light on his face, only his was the look of the maker who sees the vision of fulfillment.
"Good picture, Pete," said Osmond.