Mrs. Hansen put the supper on the table and retired behind a closed door.
"Cream-toast—dried beef—soda-biscuits—well, I don't call that a solid meal after a good day's work! That's an old lady's supper. Why don't you have a steak, Father, something substantial?"
"Can't, my dear," he said smiling. "Too heavy for me—can't eat much meat. This is just what I like."
He tucked the napkin under his thin beard, still auburn more than grey, and began to eat. Mary took a biscuit and broke it open.
"It's light," she conceded. "I guess she's a good enough cook."
"Oh, she's first-rate—I live in clover," smiled Dr. Lowell.
"Well, hardly that—"
"Oh, yes.... But say, how splendid you look, Mary! Been to some grand blowout?"
"No, I made some calls. Do you like this bonnet?"