"I'm glad he's had that much sense. Well—and now tell me all about this
League of yours."
He told her all about it, and she sat very quietly, listening, nodding her proud old head in approval. He talked about it till it was time to go. Then the old lady became agitated.
"My dear boy, you mustn't let Kimber drive you too fast down that hill.
Fanny, will you tell Kimber to be careful?"
Her face trembled with anxiety as she held it to him to be kissed. At that moment he was her child, escaping from her, going out rashly into the dangerous world.
"I like going to see Granny," said Fanny as Kimber tucked them up together in the car. "She makes me feel young."
"You may very well feel it," said Mr. Waddington. "It's only my mother's white hair, Miss Madden, that makes her look old."
"I thought," said Barbara, "she looked ever so much younger"—she was going to say, "than she is"—"than most people's mothers."
"You will have noticed," Fanny said, "that my husband is younger than most people."
Barbara noticed that he had drawn himself up with an offended air, unnaturally straight. He didn't like it, this discussion about ages.
They were running out of the Square when Fanny remembered and cried out, "Oh, stop him, Horatio. We must go back and see if Ralph's coming to dinner."