“She's hot, Aunt Boynton is, hot and restless, but Mrs. Mason thinks that's all.”
Ivory found his mother feverish, and her eyes were unnaturally bright; but she was clear in her mind and cheerful, too, sitting up in bed to breathe the better, while the Maltese cat snuggled under her arm and purred peacefully.
“The cat is Rod's idea,” she said smilingly but in a very weak voice. “He is a great nurse I should never have thought of the cat myself but she gives me more comfort than all the medicine.”
Ivory and Rodman drew up to the supper table, already set in the kitchen, but before Ivory took his seat he softly closed the door that led into the living-room. They ate their beans and brown bread and the mince pie that had been the “splendid” feature of the meal, as reported by the boy; and when they had finished, and Rodman was clearing the table, Ivory walked to the window, lighting his pipe the while, and stood soberly looking out on the snowy landscape. One could scarcely tell it was twilight, with such sweeps of whiteness to catch every gleam of the dying day.
“Drop work a minute and come here, Rod,” he said at length. “Can you keep a secret?”
“'Course I can! I'm chock full of 'em now, and nobody could dig one of 'em out o' me with a pickaxe!”
“Oh, well! If you're full you naturally couldn't hold another!”
“I could try to squeeze it in, if it's a nice one,” coaxed the boy.
“I don't know whether you'll think it's a nice one, Rod, for it breaks up one of your plans. I'm not sure myself how nice it is, but it's a very big, unexpected, startling one. What do you think? Your favorite Patty has gone and got married.”
“Patty! Married!” cried Rod, then hastily putting his hand over his mouth to hush his too-loud speaking.