“Why, William?” said Miss Lomas patiently.
“Well, his day seems to be comin’ this month,” said William.
Miss Lomas, with a good deal of confusion, launched into a not very clear account of the institution of Saint Valentine’s Day.
“Well, I don’t think much of him ’s a saint,” was William’s verdict, as he took out another nut and absent-mindedly cracked it, “writin’ soppy letters to girls instead of gettin’ martyred prop’ly like Peter an’ the others.”
Miss Lomas put her hand to her head.
“You misunderstand me, William,” she said. “What I meant to say was— Well, suppose we leave Saint Valentine till later, and have our little talk on Brotherly Love first.... Ow-w-w!”
Albert’s box had been accidentally opened in William’s pocket, and Albert was now discovered taking a voyage of discovery up Miss Lomas’ jumper. Miss Lomas’ spectacles fell off. She tore off Albert and rushed from the room.
William gathered up Albert and carefully examined him. “She might have hurt him, throwing him about like that,” he said sternly. “She oughter be more careful.”
Then he replaced Albert tenderly in his box.
“Give us a nut,” said Ginger.