“I do. Oh, mother—” she checked herself; she would not for the world praise him for his bravery lest one or the other should suspect how pleased she was to do it. “Did you see Honey, the dear baby?” she asked, giving a turn to the subject.
“No, I saw only the man himself; I met him on the road.”
“Do you know, I have a baby brother, only a little younger than Honey, and I had never seen him before mother came.”
“I am glad you have some one to fill Honey’s place, and some one from whom you will not have to part. She was very loath to give up her little cousin,” he told Mrs. Kennedy.
“Agnes always was a great hand for the little ones,” Mrs. Kennedy replied.
“And you must have missed her sadly when she left you for this raw country.”
“I missed her, yes.” The mother’s eyes rested fondly on the girl, and Parker’s followed the look. He wondered if the mother noted how becoming was that soft blue and how the plain little gown brought out the color of the girl’s eyes.
“What did you say about the will?” Agnes asked, eager for more information.
“I told him that the will would be entered for probate, and that your mother would claim her own.”
“What did he say to that?”