“I won’t,” she reflected. “I won’t interfere this time, whatever the boy does. He shall never think of his old aunt as a wet blanket. Never!”
She was in a blissful dream when suddenly a car drew up before the hotel porch directly in front of her rocking-chair. She didn’t recognize it at first. All its shiny blueness was dust-laden. So were its occupants. One of them saw her instantly, and waved his cap. Millicent was out as quickly as Hugh, pulling off her veil and looking up with a beating heart at Miss Frink, who started to her feet.
“We’ve come to lunch with you, Aunt Susanna.” Hugh embraced her, and she took Millicent’s timid hand.
“Well, if this isn’t fine of you children! What sights you are! Take the car to the garage, Hugh, while I help Millicent to brush up. You must have started very early,” she added to the girl when they had reached her room.
“We did, and it has been such a beautiful morning. The car runs like velvet.”
“You look tired, child. Are those shadows under your eyes, or is it all dust? Now I’ll leave you here. Make yourself at home. Don’t hurry. There’s plenty of time. Come down to the porch when you’re ready.”
Miss Frink returned to her rocking-chair, and soon Hugh joined her, washed and brushed to her heart’s desire.
“I’m your letter to-day, Aunt Susanna,” he said, pulling up a chair beside her.
“Well, I’ll take you”—she regarded the vital light in his eyes—“and read you, too.”
“The X-ray still working?” he laughed.