“Take your hat off, take your hat off,” ejaculated Mrs. Bonstone, and her husband helping her, they pushed my dear master into the middle chair by the fire, and sat down each side of him.
Here he was at home in the heart of his friends, and one of them he had seen only once before. But that made no difference. If Mr. Bonstone had had a brother, he could not have surveyed him more affectionately than he was surveying my dear master.
I was licking his shoes, his hands—I was nearly crazy with delight, and even Gringo and Walter Scott were grinning.
“Now, tell us all about it,” said Mrs. Wasp, clapping her hands, “but first, are you hungry? You look as pale as a ghost. When did you last have something to eat?”
“I don’t know,” said master faintly.
“The bell, Norman,” she said. “Quick now, Jeannie,” she said to the maid who appeared almost instantaneously; “a tray right here—soup, tea and toast, for the present. In two hours we will have supper in the dining-room—chicken salad, cold meats, hot rolls, anything else nice that cook can get us.”
Master, who was listening, murmured, “How very kind you are, Stanna.”
“No, Rudolph, not kind,” she said sweetly. “Just returning some of your many attentions to a tiresome girl. Now, tell us about it—tell us. You’re quite sure about the baby, you’re not deluded—that would be too cruel.”
“I’ve seen it, handled it,” said master starting up in his chair and pushing his hair back from his forehead with both hands—a trick he had when he was greatly excited. “It’s a beauty.”
“Boy or girl?” cried Stanna.