"Good night," I answered, "Dr.—B-B-Bill!"
His eyes twinkled, just for a moment.
"Good night," he responded, "Miss—M-M-Mavis!"
He opened the door for Mrs. Cardigan and her tray, stood aside, waved to me once, and was gone. All the way down the hall I heard him singing: "You are old, Father William" in a pleasant, gay baritone.
Suddenly I realized I was hungry.
I awoke the following morning feeling almost happy. There was a wonderful sense of adventure in looking out of my windows over the grey city streets, in hearing the hurrying footsteps go past me. So many people! So many sorrows and joys passing beneath my window, so many eager feet going out to meet the day! I felt very small, almost insignificant, very unimportant.
"It's like an angel you're looking today, Mrs. Denton!" said Mrs. Cardigan amiably, as she brought me my breakfast, with Uncle John following hard on her heels.
"And it's blushing she is!" added the honest creature in amazement.
Uncle John laid his hand on the shoulder of the old woman who had been nurse and housekeeper and almost-mother to him for thirty years.
"Run off with you, Mary," he said, laughing. "Mrs. Denton isn't used to blarney!"