Andy smiled at her in a way most women would have found pleasant.
“There’s nothing I want. And I’m only too delighted to come up for a game of billiards whenever your son asks me.”
Another of those unspoken conversations—full of difficult pride and mother-love on the one side, and touched recognition of it on the other—but perfectly clear to both.
A very rare colour crept up into Mrs. Stamford’s weather-beaten cheeks.
“He’s all we have,” she said.
“I know,” Andy answered.
Then the other two came in, and they all went through the atmosphere of reposeful centuries to dinner, when the conversation dragged sufficiently for Andy to search his mind for a fresh topic, and he introduced his aunt and cousins with a feeling that this was just what they would like. And he was quite sure Mrs. Stamford would like them, for they were social lights fitted to adorn any circle, and such very stylish dressers.
He did not say this in so many words, but his boyish gratitude to his aunt and admiration for the Webster girls shone sufficiently clearly through the remarks he did make to cause Mrs. Stamford’s cordial—
“I shall be delighted if you will bring your aunt and cousins to lunch with us.”
Andy little knew how seldom such an invitation was issued by his exclusive hostess, and he was conscious of promising equal enjoyment to both entertainer and entertained when he replied gratefully—