“Oh yes, indeed!”
“And I can't tell you what a night this has been for Ralph. He likes you so much, and it isn't often that he has a chance to talk to two such people as you and Dr. Morrell.”
“How brilliant he is!” Annie sighed.
“Yes, he's a very able man. It's very fortunate for Hatboro' to have such a doctor. He and Ralph are great cronies. I never feel uneasy now when Ralph's out late—I know he's been up at the doctor's office, talking. I—”
Annie broke in with a laugh. “I've no doubt Dr. Morrell is all you say, Ellen, but I meant Ralph when I spoke of brilliancy. He has a great future, I'm sure.”
Mrs. Putney was silent for a moment. “I'm satisfied with the present, so long as Ralph—” The tears suddenly gushed out of her eyes, and ran down over the fine wrinkles of her plump little cheeks.
“Not quite so much loud talking, please,” piped a thin, high voice from a room across the stairs landing.
“Why, dear little soul!” cried Annie. “I forgot he'd gone to bed.”
“Would you like to see him?” asked his mother.
She led the way into the room where the boy lay in a low bed near a larger one. His crutches lay beside it. “Win sleeps in our room yet. He can take care of himself quite well. But when he wakes in the night he likes to reach out and touch his father's hand.”