“Wust way,” said Uncle William; “but he ain’t goin’ to. What was you copyin’ when I come in?”
“Some music—for one of the big houses. It helps out.”
Uncle William was looking at her thoughtfully. “He’d better give up his place when we go,” he said. “He’ll, like enough, stay with me all summer.”
“His rooms, you mean?” She mused a little. “Yes, perhaps—”
“They must cost a good deal,” said Uncle William.
“They do.” She paused a minute. “He is almost sure to take a prize,” she said. “It’s the best work he has done.”
“That’ll be good,” said Uncle William. “But we won’t count too much on it. He won’t need money in Arichat. A little goes a long ways up there. Good night.” He was holding out his hand.
She placed hers in it slowly. Uncle William lifted the slim fingers. He patted them benignly. “They don’t look good for much, but they’re pretty,” he said.
She laughed out quietly. “They have to be,” she said. “They’re my tools. I have to be careful of them. That is one of the things we quarreled about—Alan and I. He knew I ought not to use them and he wouldn’t let me do things for him, and he wouldn’t have a nurse, nor go to the hospital.” She sighed a little. “He was very obstinate.”
“Just like a mule,” assented Uncle William. He was stroking the fingers gently. “But he’s got a new driver this time.” He chuckled a little.