"Why, paw," said Mrs. Ball, "how did you get in here?"
The old man grunted.
"You've dropped your knitting," said Val, stooping and picking up a strip of gray wool-work with needles sticking in it.
He took it, and began feebly moving his rheumatic hands, while Mrs. Ball bustled about making the tea and sending the maid-servant in and out. Ethan turned his back, and looked out of the window. Val suddenly felt the repulsiveness of the old man as she had never felt it before. She saw that Ethan had taken out his watch.
"It isn't possible it's nearly five o'clock!" he said, as though that were an unheard-of hour for tea. "I'm sorry, but I must get back to my hotel," and almost before Mrs. Ball knew where she was, he had shaken hands and was gone.
CHAPTER XXIX
"Grandma is not so well to-day," said Emmie's letter the next morning. "I think you oughtn't to be away long. She is surprised to have only a 'safe arrival' telegram from you and no letter. She says she doesn't count the post-card. But she does, and I think you'd better not send her another."
Val read it out at breakfast.