"You say they were all down, Sally? This breakfast looks very nice, my dear—I wish I could eat more of it." He laid down a half slice of toast and brushed his thin fingers.
"Uncle Timmy, are you sure you can't manage just a little more? Two spoonfuls of boiled egg, half a slice of toast, and a cup of coffee—that's no breakfast at all. If I tell you all about it, won't you eat just half the egg?"
"I'll try, child, but—really—the old fellow who is wearing my clothes—and not half big enough for them—doesn't seem to be able to summon much of an appetite."
"If you don't eat a good breakfast I shall feel more than ever guilty for not telling you they were coming—though of course I didn't dream of their all coming. But if you had seen them you wouldn't have slept a bit."
"No, like enough I shouldn't. I'll be satisfied if you tell me how they all looked. The boys—Max?"
"Very well, indeed—he's a trifle heavier than when I went away. Joanna's cooking is beginning to tell. I think she pampers them, don't you?—I'm so grateful to her for that."
"Alec?"
"Just as usual. He was wearing a new overcoat, and looked a glass of fashion! He says as long as Mr. Ferry lives in the country in the winter he's willing to stand it there. Isn't it lucky they're staying at least one more year? By another winter the demands on Mr. Ferry in town may be so heavy he can't take time to go back and forth."
"Yes, I should say it was a very good thing for Alec to be as much under the influence of such a man as could be brought about, until he is where he can do his own thinking along the right lines. How is my nephew Robert?"
"Oh, Bob's cheeks are so round and red they look like a very large infant's. Dear Bobby—think he misses us most. He ran in and peeped into your berth while the train stood there. I think he rather hoped to wake you."