CHAPTER XXII
IN the upper windows of the double-fronted house near the church plain short blinds had replaced the long Madras muslin curtains. Again the gay Brussels carpet in the best sitting-room was covered with newspaper and the ornaments were put away. All visitors had left Draeth, for the Summer was over, and with the summer Tommy’s sixth birthday had come and gone.
Being six did not bring with it the rare delight that Tommy had expected. For one thing he missed his ladies; for another he was troubled by the growing sadness of his Mammy’s face. Twice when he came in unexpectedly he had found her in tears, and yet she had assured him that she had no headache anywhere.
It was most unfortunate, too, that just when things were a little dreary Granny Tregennis should be so very tired. Whenever Tommy ran in to see her now, he found that she was still in bed, and although she wanted him to play with her on Saturday mornings yet, when he went upstairs, she seemed to have but little pleasure in the play-toys that were kept in the fireplace cupboard.
“My Granny did ought to have a brave long sleep,” he asserted with puckered brow.
“She do be goin’ to have a brave long sleep, ma handsome,” Mammy’s eyes filled with tears as she spoke and this seemed to Tommy inconsistent.
On the front, looking for occupation, he fell in with Old John. Old John was a life-long friend, but of late there had been so many other interests to attract him that Old John had been neglected.
Now Tommy hailed him. “Gotten a noo pair o’ trousers,” he shouted, and almost overbalanced in his effort to stand on one leg with the other stretched out at right angles in front of him.
“Hm!” said Old John.