Mrs. Walbridge blushed scarlet, and whispered to Maud, who sat next her, that he had really been dreadful over her night gowns. "The girl who served us laughed till she was black. I really don't know what she thought we were!"
Guy, who was more like his mother than any of the others, and who looked, despite his serious illness, particularly fit and well, now took up the tale and went on with it.
"He is an awful fellow, really, is Wick, and I can only hope his real mother has more fight in her than mine."
"She's mine, too, yours is," Wick interrupted, his voice steady, but his eyes bright. "She has adopted me, and I have adopted her."
"How will Miss Perkins like this new relationship and all that it entails?" Barclay asked, looking away from Mrs. Walbridge for the first time for several minutes.
"Oh, she'll be delighted! She's longing to meet Mrs. Walbridge and all of them, particularly, of course," he added politely, "Grisel."
For some reason everyone at the table turned and looked at Grisel. She was leaning back in her chair, her face clearly alarmingly white, and her nose looked pointed.
Paul, who sat next to her, took hold of her hand.
"What is the matter," he asked roughly.