"Aunt Mary!" Dickie expostulated. "You're too personal. You——"
But Miss Lang went on with a smile which put her guest wholly at his ease: "You won't mind what an old lady like me says, I'm sure. I always told your father just what I thought. And I'm going to do the same with you."
Gregory listened attentively while she told him of her first meeting with his father. While she spoke his eyes traveled curiously to the high-backed organ and the what-not beyond. Richard Gregory had described the Lang home as a model of neatness and old-fashioned charm. His son went further. The room possessed a personality. It was not only livable but lovable as well. The very atmosphere breathed a benediction.
"Do you play checkers?"
Miss Lang's voice recalled Gregory to himself. He shook his head.
"I'm sorry," he began.
"No you're not," put in Dickie quietly. "You're
lucky. Don't ever learn. Aunt Mary never gave your father a chance to say a word. She had her board out when she heard him in the hall."
A knock on the front door interrupted Miss Lang's request for her checker-board and Dickie hurried out.
"I can teach you in no time," Aunt Mary was saying. But Gregory was listening to the sound of a man's voice in the hallway. Then came the girl's laugh.