“I can’t stop, thank you,” said Julie, suddenly remembering her errand, “but if you are lonely and would like to have me, I will leave Peter Snooks awhile with you—he’s no end of company.”
“Oh! would you, really?” The boy’s eyes glistened. “I wish mother were here; she’d know how to—to thank you.”
At that moment a small, frail woman, gowned in black, entered the room.
“Why, mother,” exclaimed the boy, turning to her a flushed, eager face, “I was just wishing for you. This is the young lady that lives upstairs, you know.”
“How do you do?” the woman said, holding out her hand with quaint simplicity, neither face nor manner betraying any surprise at finding Julie there. “You are Miss Dale, are you not? I am Mrs. Grahame. It was kind of you to come in and see Jack.”
“My little dog ran in here, and I followed in search of him and found your son,” Julie explained. “I really did not intend to be intrusive.”
“It is a great pleasure to see you.” The older woman smiled at her. “You must pardon the seeming liberty, but Jack and I have long been acquainted with you. You see I am at work down-town most of the day, and the boy spends long hours by the window watching his neighbors go in and out, and he amuses himself by weaving little stories about them until he comes to regard them as personal friends.”
Jack dropped his eyes. “You’ll think I’m the one who’s intrusive,” he said.
“I do not think anything of the kind,” replied Julie; “I think it is a very clever, happy idea.” She went over to the chair and called the dog up in his lap. “Mrs. Grahame,” she said, “if you are not too busy, will you come up some evening and see us? We are working girls, and we have an invalid father, and we don’t expect to pay visits, but I would like to come down here again, if I may, and bring my sister. Your son would weave the most beautiful stories in the world if he really knew Hester.”
“Thank you for suggesting so much happiness for my boy,” said Mrs. Grahame, earnestly. “You make me want to go to see you immediately.”