“I feel as if I already knew David and his mother,” said Mrs. Bradley. “Now we’re going to take you to a hotel—we’ve engaged rooms for you—and if you’re not too tired you must come and dine with us this evening.”
She led the way with Mrs. Ives and Ralph; David and Mr. Dean walked arm in arm behind.
“We’ll go sight-seeing—house-hunting, I mean—to-morrow, David; we’ll do it leisurely. And”—Mr. Dean dropped his voice—“you mustn’t let your mother worry about hotel bills or anything of that kind; that’s all arranged for, you understand.”
“But, Mr. Dean—” began David.
“No, it’s all settled. I’ve prevailed on your family to come East for my benefit, and I don’t intend to have them do it at their expense. After all, David, you know I’m to be one of the family now.”
Mrs. Bradley marshaled them all into her big motor car; a few minutes later she and Mr. Dean were leaving them at the entrance to the hotel.
“We’ll see you then at seven this evening,” she said. “Good-bye.”
“I know I haven’t clothes fit to wear to such a house,” began Mrs. Ives as soon as she was in her room. “And I can’t help feeling shy and quiet with such people; they know so much more than I do.”
“People aren’t liked for their knowledge,” said David. “Just for what they are.”
“I don’t know whether there’s anything encouraging for me in that idea or not,” said his mother.