"Mrs. Mary O'Connor."
Kenneth smiled broadly.
"Mary O'Connor, my old nurse. Well, well, show her right in." Turning to his wife he added quickly: "Dear old soul—no doubt she's heard I'm off to Africa and wishes to say good-bye."
An instant later an old woman bent with age and with a kindly face framed with silvery white hair came in, hands outstretched. Without any air of condescension on his part, Kenneth went forward to greet her. Through all the long stretch of years, from his boy days to his manhood he had never forgotten how kind Mary had been to him when a child, taking the place of the mother he had lost in infancy. A Christmas was never allowed to pass without a fat turkey for the old nurse and many a little present of money had accompanied the bird. The old woman's lips quivered as she said tremulously:
"It's a long way you're going, Mr. Kenneth."
"Oh, I'll soon be back, Mary," he rejoined jovially.
She shook her head.
"It's a long way and I'm getting old."
The promoter laughed boisterously. Leading her gently to a chair he exclaimed:
"Old! Nonsense; You're just as young to me now as when I first remember you."