The lift flashed them up several storeys, and presently they found themselves in Mrs. Lester's room, overlooking the calm stateliness of the eastern end of Collins Street. Mrs. Lester took off her hat and tossed it upon the bed.
"Sit down, Dickie. I want to read you father's letter."
Dick gave a sudden little shiver.
"Do you remember last time you said that?" he asked.
She met his eyes. "Before you went to school?"
"Yes. You read me father's letter, saying I ought to go. And it was awful, 'cause he left it to us, and I felt such a sweep, 'cause I couldn't make myself say I would."
"But you did say it, Dick."
"Yes—but it took me a bit to make up my mind."
"Well, it isn't always easy to swallow a nasty dose off-hand," said the little mother philosophically.
"And now you've got another dose. Is it as bad, mother?"