“That’s because you didn’t attend. You must be more attentive next time you’re one year old. But there it is: she’ll never come with me—we’re still talking in a whisper—so next summer, if you’ll promise not to put mice in my bed, perhaps I’ll take you.”
“Oh, I say, how ripping!” said Dennis. “You bathe all day, Mr. Douglas told me.”
“Except when you’re basking in the sun. How is Mr. Douglas, by the way? I haven’t seen him. May I ask him to dine to-night, Vi? I know you don’t like him, darling, but he has a pretty lonely time when we’re away. I think we ought to have him in as often as we can when we’re here. He shall sit next Granny; he shan’t sit by you. And how is Granny?”
Dennis was finding a father that he had never known before, and he felt himself expanding to him. Colin had released his hand from the boy’s collar, but Dennis’s head still lay contentedly on his knees.
“Granny’s dotty, I think,” he observed. “I mean your granny, Father.”
“Dennis, dear!” said Violet.
She turned to Colin.
“Granny’s been expecting you all day,” she said. “She always knows when you’re coming. She was out on the terrace this afternoon in her bath-chair, and when she saw Dennis, she thought it was you——”
“Yes, Mother, that’s what I mean by dotty. It is dotty,” said Dennis.
Colin tucked his hand under the boy’s head.