There was some subtle flattery to him in the warning, but he could not ask for more, for just then Mrs. Jerry came in. She was cloaked for the garden, and he had to go with her, sulkily. At the door she observed that the ground was still wet.
"Are you wearing your goloshes?" said he, brightening. "You must get them, Mrs. Jerry; I insist."
She hesitated. (Her room was on the third floor.) "It is very good of you to be so thoughtful of me," she said, "but——"
"But I have no right to try to take care of you," he interposed in a melancholy voice. "It is true. Let us go."
"I sha'n't be two minutes," said Mrs. Jerry, in a flutter, and went off hastily for her goloshes, while he looked fondly after her. At the turn of the stair she glanced back, and his eyes were still begging her to hurry. It was a gracious memory to her in the after years, for she never saw him again.
As soon as she was gone he returned to the hall, and taking from a peg a cloak with a Mother Goose hood, brought it to Lady Pippinworth, who had watched her mamma trip upstairs.
"Did I say I was going out?" she asked.
"Yes," said Tommy, and she rose to let him put the elegant thing round her. She was one of those dangerous women who look their best when you are helping them to put on their cloaks.
"Now," he instructed her, "pull the hood over your head."
"Is it so cold as that?" she said, obeying.