“It is almost as good, and––almost as good is something, isn’t it?”
There was a suppressed note in her voice that made him look up. He had caught many such notes of late. Sometimes, as now, he half expected to find her eyes moist when he looked up. He never did; he always found her smiling.
“I’d have Nora give everything a thorough cleaning before September,” she advised.
“I’ll do that,” he nodded.
He wrote it down in his notebook, and that night spoke to Nora about it. She appeared decidedly interested.
“It’s possible that in the fall you may have some one else besides me to look after,” he confided to her in explanation.
“It’s to be soon, sir?” she asked eagerly.
“In September, perhaps,” he admitted.
“It would please your father, sir,” she answered excitedly. “It’s lonesome it’s been for you, sir.”
He did not answer, but he thought about that 211 a little. No, it had not been exactly lonesome for him––not lately. That was because he was looking ahead. That was it.