"Surely. That's all there are of us—at present,—isn't it? I don't think I have made a miscount."
"You don't count in James!"
"James?" he queried sharply. "Why should I?"
"Why shouldn't you?" she retorted eagerly. "Oom Peter, if you don't mind my saying so, I think you're just a little unfair to James. He used to have dinner with us nearly every day. Can't you make him a little more at home—more like one of the family?"
"Why, you good, unselfish little girl!" applauded Grimm. "You think of everybody. James is——"
Hartmann came in with several newly typed letters to be signed, and Grimm turned to meet him with something akin to cordiality.
"James," said he, "will you have dinner with us to-day?"
"Why, yes," answered Hartmann, in pleased surprise. "Certainly. Thank you very much. Will you glance over these and sign them?" he added, wondering at the grateful smile Kathrien flashed at Peter as she passed into the dining-room and left the two men alone together.
Grimm, too, wondered a little at the warmth of the girl's smile.
"She has bloomed out lately like a rose," he mused as he looked over the letters the secretary proffered him.