In vain he listened for ascending footsteps. Why didn’t Mammy at once tell Annabel that he was waiting for her, he wondered. At last, after what seemed to him hours and hours, he heard them come upstairs.
There was a stumble, and a strange voice said: “Be careful, darling,” then they came on again.
Oddly the footsteps did not stop at his door, and a moment later he knew by the sounds overhead that Annabel and her mother were in their own bedroom.
“Mammy!” he called.
At once she stood by his bed and, stooping, kissed him, with some new quality in her kiss.
“Wants to see Annabel, Mammy,” he said plaintively, rubbing tired eyes. “Bring her to see me, Mammy.”
Mrs. Tregennis hesitated, then stood in the doorway and spoke to the visitors as they came downstairs. “My little Tommy’s in bed, ma’am, and can’t go to sleep, he’s so excited about seein’ Annabel.”
Mrs. Tregennis held out her hand to draw the child into the room.
“Oh,” interposed Annabel’s mother, scarcely pausing on the stairs, “Miss Annabel will speak to your boy in the morning, it is too late to-night.”