"It passed her, of course. It will come back,—probably follow her down here."
"Oh, it'll show up sometime. I gave it to you to mail, didn't I?"
"Yes, I remember it distinctly, because it was the fattest one of yours I ever handled."
He grinned ruefully. "Yep. Had a lot on my chest that night."
"Mrs. King thought you ought to rest before dinner, Honor."
"At least I ought to make myself decent!" She smoothed the collar Jimsy's arms had crumpled, the hair his shoulder had rubbed from its smooth plaits. "She must think I'm weird enough as it is!"
But the Richard Kings had lived long enough in the turbulent tierra caliente to take startling things pretty much for granted. Honor's coming was now a happily accepted fact. A cool, dim room had been made ready for her,—a smooth floor of dull red tiles, some astonishingly good pieces of furniture which had come, Mrs. King told her when she took her up, from the Government pawnshop in Mexico City and dated back to the brief glories of Maximilian's period, and a cool bath in a tin tub.
"You are so good," said Honor. "Taking me in like this! It was a dreadful thing to do, but—I had to come to him."
The Englishwoman put her hand on her shoulder. "My dear, it was a topping thing to do. I—" her very blue eyes were pools of understanding. "I should have done it. And we're no end pleased to have you! We get fearfully dull, and three young people are a feast! We'll have a lot of parties and divide you generously with our friends and neighbors—neighbors twenty miles away, my dear! We'll do some theatricals,—Carter says your boy is quite marvelous at that sort of thing."