At the door she paused. In front of the wood fire blazing brightly at one end of the spacious room, Walter’s couch was drawn and around him in attitudes of eager interest were three children. They were evidently absorbed in the story he was telling with an animation his sister had thought never to see again.
Strewn upon the floor were photographs, and on a table a costly illustrated book on birds—one of her brother’s old favorites—lay open; but at present everything else was forgotten in the interest of the story which seemed to be one of adventure, for there was frequent mention of bears. This much Miss Grayson’s bewildered mind took in.
And this was the lonely invalid to whom she had hastened home! Certainly he was not missing her, for she stood there quite unobserved. And who were these children who had brought such a light to his eyes? All her devotion had failed to do as much for him. Turning she saw Thompson hovering uneasily in the distance, and swept down upon him.
“Who are those children in the library?” she demanded. Miss Grayson was exceedingly stately and Thompson felt abashed.
“Why Miss Elizabeth they’re just some children—”
“I see that; I asked who they are and what they are doing here?”
“Well you see Miss Elizabeth it looked like Mr. Walter was mighty lonesome to-day and it was too damp to be on the ground, so I just took the liberty of asking them in to amuse him. It looks like there’s not much for him to do.”
“Did Mr. Grayson tell you to ask them?”
“No m’m, but he seemed right glad to see them. It has cheered him up considerable.” The sound of laughter from the library emphasized this.
“But who are they?” Miss Grayson asked again. Thompson was very trying to her, and it was only because he suited her brother so well that she kept him.