“This is delightful,” said Mrs. Hunt. “I’m sure I don’t know how you’re going to fit in, but you must manage it somehow. If necessary we’ll all stand up and re-pack ourselves, but I warn you it is risky: the walls may not stand it!”
“Oh, don’t trouble, Mrs. Hunt,” Jim said. “We’re quite all right.” Both boys’ eyes had sought Norah as they entered: and Norah, meeting the glance, felt a sudden pang at her heart, and knew.
“My chair is ever so much too big for me,” she said. “You can each have an arm.”
“Good idea!” said Wally, perching on the broad arm of the easy-chair that swallowed her up. “Come along, Jim, or we’ll be lop-sided!”
“We put Norah in the biggest chair in the room, and everybody is treating her with profound respect,” Mrs. Hunt said. “This is the first day for quite a while that she hasn’t been hostess, so we made her chief guest, and she is having a rest-cure.”
“If you treat Norah with respect it won’t have at all a restful effect on her,” said Wally. “I’ve tried.” To which Norah inquired, “When?” in a voice of such amazement that every one laughed.
“Misunderstood as usual,” said Wally pathetically. “It really doesn’t pay to be like me and have a meek spirit: people only think you are a worm, and trample on you. Come here, Geoff, and take care of me:” and Geoffrey, who adored him, came. “Have you been riding old Brecon lately?”
“’M!” said Geoffrey, nodding. “I can canter now!”
“Good man! Any tosses?”
“Well, just one,” Geoffrey admitted. “He cantered before I had gotted ready, and I fell off. But it didn’t hurt.”