“I promise,” she said. “Good-bye, old son.”
“Mother always keeps her promises, so it’s all right,” he said, leaning back with a little smile. Alison had no worries. She sang “Hi, diddle, diddle!” loud and clear, as they rushed through the crowded streets. When a block in the traffic came, people on ’buses looked down, smiling involuntarily at the piping voice coming from the recesses of the taxi. As for Michael, he sat on Norah’s knee and sucked his thumb in complete content.
Jones met them at the end of the little journey. His lips involuntarily shaped themselves to a whistle of amazement as the party filed out of the station, though to the credit of his training be it recorded that no sound came. Geoffrey caught his breath with delight at the sight of the brown cobs.
“Oh-h! Are they yours?”
“Yes—aren’t they dears?” responded Norah.
The boy caught her hand.
“Oh—could I possibly sit in front and look at them?”
Norah laughed.
“Could he, Jones? Would you take care of him?”
“’E’d be as safe as in a cradle, Miss Norah,” said Jones delightedly. “Come on up, sir, and I’ll show you ’ow to drive.” Mr. Linton swung him up, smiling at the transfigured little face. Norah had already got her charges into the carriage: a porter stowed away their trunk, and the horses trotted off through the dusk.