“All I can say is as they don’t look it, an’ after all we’m got to take our risks. A room for one night isn’t much, but all the littles add up, and the summer’s nearly gone.” After a pause she resumed. “The Royal Standard isn’t good enough for they, Thomas Tregennis, I’d have you know, when folks wants things done in real style they comes to the likes of we.”
Mrs. Tregennis cleared her throat and prepared her husband’s tea.
Two hours later the ladies had brought their bicycles and carry-alls from the hotel-stable, and were sitting down to supper in Mrs. Tregennis’s sitting-room, for the young gentleman had proved most accommodating in the matter of the chair-bed.
It was after supper that the meeting with Tommy took place. The arrival of unexpected visitors had put off his bedtime, and when these visitors passed the kitchen door on their way out, he had only just had his bath. He was standing on a chair while Mammy vigorously brushed up his stiff fair hair. Peeping out below the pink nightshirt were toes almost as pink as his flushed little face. All the time his hair was being rubbed and brushed, he went through a rhythmic motion of the body, slowly bending his knees, and rapidly straightening them again. The upright movement frequently brought his head into sharp contact with the hair-brush, but this in nowise disconcerted him.
When Mammy’s ladies appeared in the doorway, then in response to Mrs. Tregennis’s invitation actually walked into the kitchen, he was overcome with shyness and hid his eyes in his hands. To his great surprise, however, the ladies talked to Mammy, neglecting him utterly. He was accustomed to much consideration, and gradually his tight little fingers relaxed that he might peep through the gaps and see what manner of strangers these were who were so ignorant of his importance and of his claims upon them.
Still the ladies talked only to Mammy. He could bear it no longer, so, dropping his hands, he pursed up his mouth and whistled; at least he called it whistling, but it was very much the same noise that Daddy made each morning when the tea in his saucer was too hot. Its value as a whistle, however, mattered very little, as it had the desired effect. The taller lady, the one in the blue dress, looked at him in surprise; evidently until now she had had no idea that he was there.
“Hallo, Tommy,” she said, and made a dash for his toes.
“Hallo,” he half-screamed, half-gurgled. “Hallo, Blue Lady,” and flung two chubby, suffocating arms tightly around her neck. Then, peeping over her shoulder, “Hallo, Brown Lady,” he laughed. Thus their friendship began.
