It was not Hugh’s pettiness that called forth the exclamation, but the saddening circumstance that she had put her chopped and seasoned parsley into the sweet mixture that represented the pudding.
“How,” she asked pathetically, “can I get ready to feed a lion when it gets under my feet all the time like this? Is there nothing you can do? Couldn’t you go and play wild beasts under the piano for a little time? Max and Muffie would help you growl.”
[p196]
Hugh abandoned the dresser which rattled ominously as he took his solid weight off.
“Max and Muffie remind me of Miss Bibby, and Miss Bibby reminds me of a duty to be performed,” he said; “I’ve promised to read her story. Well, if England expects every man this day to do his duty, Australia may expect duty this day to do a man.”
Kate heard him going heavily back to his study.
[Back to [Contents]]
[p197]
CHAPTER XVIII
AN EDITING PENCIL
And now he swept all his own work out of the way and, sitting firmly down once more upon his chair from the kitchen, spread out upon his time-be desk, Miss Bibby’s MS.
He had read it through no less than three times.