“We can dance up here after dinner,” said Jack. “Mother will play for us, I am sure; for see, there’s a piano here!”
Though an adopted son, Mrs. McGuire had asked Jack to call her “Mother,” and the boy had been only too glad to do so.
“Play for you? Of course I will,” said the lady herself, entering the sitting-room. “And now we will go down to dinner. Lisette will stay here in charge of everything.”
Jack sprang to open the door.
He held it open till the last of his party went through it, and then he closed it and followed them. Somehow he was again in place to push the elevator bell, and Mrs. McGuire looked at him with pride as she noticed his quiet quickness and graceful ways.
Dinner was a delightful experience. Betty was a little bewildered by the array of silver and glass, and Stub frankly inquired which fork to use first, but Jack seemed to know by intuition.
“I’d like to live in a place like this always,” said Stub, as he ate his ice-cream.
“So wouldn’t I,” said Jack. “A hotel is all very well for a few days, but it isn’t a home.”
“That’s so,” agreed Agnes; “I suppose we’d get tired of it if we had it all the time.”
“Well, it’s good enough for me,” returned Stub. “When I’m a man, I’m going to live in one. I don’t see many boys here, though,” he added, looking round.