“One thing that Polly does Sunday nights, is to take Will's head in her lap, and smooth his forehead. It rests him after studying so hard, she says. If you don't like the pillow, I could do that for you, 'cause you look as if you were more tired of studying than Will,” said Maud, with some hesitation, but an evident desire to be useful and agreeable.
“Well, I don't care if you do try it, for I am confoundedly tired.” And Tom laughed, as he recalled the frolic he had been on the night before.
Maud established herself with great satisfaction, and Tom owned that a silk apron was nicer than a fuzzy cushion.
“Do you like it?” she asked, after a few strokes over the hot forehead, which she thought was fevered by intense application to Greek and Latin.
“Not bad; play away,” was the gracious reply, as Tom shut his eyes, and lay so still that Maud was charmed at the success of her attempt. Presently, she said, softly, “Tom, are you asleep?”
“Just turning the corner.”
“Before you get quite round would you please tell me what a Public Admonition is?”
“What do you want to know for?” demanded Tom, opening his eyes very wide.
“I heard Will talking about Publics and Privates, and I meant to ask him, but I forgot.”
“What did he say?”