"Oh, I don't know, Mrs. Gower, Mr. Babbington-Cole requires such an amount of attendance, that, on second thought, it is best we should return to the hotel," she said, doggedly.
"But, Margaret, you told them at the Palmer House you——"
"It does not signify what I told them; that is past; perhaps your hearing has become impaired. I said, on second thought," now thinking—goodness, how they stare; think I am not spooney, I suppose; says, "You see, Mrs. Gower, I have to think for us both. A man's mind is not good for much after a long illness.'"
"My poor friend, you do look as if you had had a hard time of it," said Mrs. Gower, with latent meaning; "but you must know it would be a real pleasure to have you stay with me, and Mrs. Cole also. Do take off your muffler, Charlie, the room is warm. Excuse me calling your husband by his Christian name, Mrs. Cole, but it is a habit I must break myself off now."
"Yes, I suppose so, now he is a married man," she said, showing her teeth; "but he'd better keep muffled up."
"How did you stand the voyage, Mr. Cole?" inquired Dale.
"Very badly. You see I am pretty well battered out, and could not get about much. A stick is a shaky leg in mid-ocean."
"You are right. Did your uncle and aunt come out with you, Mrs. Cole?" continued Dale.
"What the mischief does that grey-haired, weasel-eyed man know, I wonder," she thought, saying, briefly, "Yes."
"Poor Charlie, you had nurses enough," said Mrs. Smyth; who felt so badly at seeing her old favorite so carelessly dressed, his last season's overcoat, and a purple and white muffler; looking feeble, emaciated, and unhappy, and with such a wife, that she is almost silent, and nearly in tears.