Big, was the word that described Dr. Farwell, everything about him was big. His broad shoulders, his well shaped hands, his kindly deep set blue eyes, even his voice, which appeared to come from his boots as he asked:
“How is this little daughter of mine?”
“Oh, Daddie, dear, I’m so glad to see you. I’m perfectly fine,” Lois answered excitedly and then turned to greet her mother.
“Darling Lois,” Mrs. Farwell whispered, kissing her, and:
“Sweetheart mother,” Lois whispered back. That was all. Mother and daughter understood each other so well, that there was no need for words.
“Well, don’t I get even a how d’ye do?” demanded a laughing voice. And a big hand fell on Lois’ shoulder.
“Why, Bobbie—but of course you do, I’m so glad to see you, I could eat you up,” she cried.
“Eat this instead, won’t you?” said Bob, producing a big white cardboard box. “It’s a chocolate cake—it
won’t be quite so tough. Heppy made it for you, and she said she ‘sho’ did hope her baby chile would like it.’”
“Bless Heppy’s heart, she’s a darling, give me the box, you’re sure to drop it.”