He heard a voice; it was the parrot.
“Now see what you’ve done,” it said in sepulchral tones.
They reached the house, bore the honored guest within, and delivered her to Janice.
“You can have that parrot,” Jack called back to the cabman. “He’s guaranteed against slang.”
The cabman drove away.
Janice received them with a look which might have been construed in many ways, but they were all far past construing and the look fell to the ground unheeded.
And again Aunt Mary was tucked carefully up to dream herself rested once more.
Chapter Eighteen
A Departure And A Return
The next day poor Aunt Mary had to undergo the ordeal of being obliged to turn her face away from all those joys which had so suddenly and brilliantly altered the hues of life for her. It pretty nearly used her up. She took her reviving decoction with tears standing in her eyes,—and sat down the glass with a bursting sigh. “My, but I wish I knew when I’d be taking any more of this?” she said to Janice.
“Oh, you’ll come back to the city some day,” said the maid hopefully.