“He’s not the baker, nor the grocer, nor the fishmonger,” said Clara quietly. “Here, mother, eat your bacon. I’ll tell you everything afterwards.”
While Mrs. Ives enjoyed her breakfast, the nurse withdrew into the inner room and began to dress little Piers.
“I’m ever so well,” said the boy. “I’m going out for a bit to-day.”
“But, my dear, it’s raining.”
“That doesn’t matter. You can send for my carriage. I always drive in the brougham on wet days. Nurse, who was that person you were talking to? I heard a voice keep chattering and chattering. Whose was it?”
“My mother’s, dear.”
“Has your mother come? Oh, I am glad. I want to see her.”
“You shall see her when you are dressed, Piers.”
“But I’m very sorry I wasn’t in the room when she arrived. I wanted to see you kiss her. Are you beginning to obey her already? You know it’s the fifth commandment—children ought to obey their parents.”
“Oh, it’s all right, dear. Don’t talk quite so much, Piers. Sit still while I dress you.”