“You know it’s even nicer than being a mother. Everybody knows that grandmothers have the best of it. Mr. Ogden has told you that Hugh belongs to me, and at midnight last night we, Hugh and I, were alone together, and—and we talked of it. He seemed to be glad. He kissed me like a real grandchild. Millicent, it seemed too wonderful for words that I should be really happy! Those young arms around me made me feel richer than—doubling my money on a corner lot.”
Millicent began to swallow fast.
“I’m so—so gl-glad,” she said. “I’ll try—not to cry.”
“You’re very sweet to care, child. You and Hugh are so well acquainted I feel you will always take an interest.”
“It was wonderful!” said Millicent. The eagerness in the bright eyes impelled her on. “Hugh is—my grandfather thinks he is an unusual fellow. He has always seemed so frank, and kind, and simple. He takes an interest in Grandpa’s garden and is so nice about it. He often says he wishes he owned a little place just like ours.”
“Oh, he does, does he?” returned Miss Frink dryly. “Well, you’re ahead of me. I have never heard him express a wish for anything.”
“Now, Miss Frink, you must lie down,” said the girl. “Mr. Ogden told me to be sure to make you rest.” She arranged the pillows just as her employer liked them, persuaded her to change her dress for a negligée, and soon the happy woman was settled on the couch.
“You’ll guarantee I won’t wake up and find it all a dream?”
“I promise it,” she said.