But in the early morning he awoke in unusual pain, and it was only after his mother had dosed him again and again with a soothing remedy that he fell into slumber. Yet he insisted on being dressed in time to eat breakfast with the others, especially that he might better enjoy the corn cake which Granny had brought up to them.
“This will fix you out all right,” Blue told him, his mouth full of the dainty.
Doodles nodded, with a brave, wan little smile. “It was nice for Granny to give it to us,” he said.
“Granny’s the girl for me!” declared Blue, swimming his own and Doodles’s piece in the maple syrup which had accompanied the cake.
“She’s the best friend we have,” his mother agreed. “Don’t pour on so much, Blue! We must be careful—”
Blue understood the unfinished sentence. Yet he said, “Doodles and I like ‘much,’ don’t we, kiddie?” Then he set the pitcher aside, and ate his second helping without replenishment of the sweet.
Doodles dozed away an hour or two of the long forenoon, and was beginning to feel quite rested when a knock announced a caller.
To his cheery “Come in!” the door opened upon a woman,—a stocky, youngish woman, with pale blue eyes, heavy cheeks, and a double chin. She swept across to the cushioned chair.
“How d’ye do! I thought I’d find you at home,” with strong emphasis. “I was at the concert last night,” she went on, seating herself somewhat laboriously in the offered chair; “perhaps you remember me.”
Doodles gave a smiling assent. He could hardly have forgotten that plumed hat with its gorgeous pins, the shimmering green satin gown, and,—when she had drawn off one of her long white gloves,—those stubby red fingers, sparkling to the knuckles with diamonds.