"I arrived at home a few hours ago and found nobody, so I started out in search of some one. How are you, Patterson?" and the brothers clasped hands warmly.
"We are going to have tea, just as I did that day when I was so lonely, and—here's Miss Celia!" Rosalind paused in surprise.
Celia stood rather shyly in the door. She would gladly have escaped if she could.
At Rosalind's exclamation, Allan drew his brother forward. "You remember Celia Fair, Patterson?" he said.
"Certainly I do. She was about Rosalind's age when I last saw her."
"I remember you very well, Mr. Whittredge," Celia said, as Patterson took both her hands, and looked into her glowing face.
"I haven't been told anything, but—" he glanced inquiringly at Allan, who nodded, smiling.
Rosalind caught sight of the ring on Celia's finger. "Oh," she said, "was that what the will meant? Are you going to wear it always? I know Aunt Patricia would be glad!" and she hugged Celia joyfully.
That what followed was a childish performance cannot be denied, but alas for those who do not sometimes enjoy putting away grown-up dignity! Rosalind had set her heart on having tea, and the magician was no less pleased at the idea. He lighted up and filled the kettle, and she set the table, while the others looked on and laughed.
"I began being a boy again four months ago, and I like it. How old are you?" Allan asked, passing Celia her cup.