He cast his cigarette into the fire. "If you have no more to say to me, then, I will go," he said, smiling icily. His mother saying nothing, but smiling at him, he bowed—English model—and was going out.
Mrs. Morton laughed again, suddenly and merrily. "Oh, Everett, Everett!" she cried. "How old are you? I should think you were about twelve."
"Thank you," he replied; and he bowed again and left her.
So Mrs. Morton had not been surprised when Sally came to her, a day or two later, to say that she thought that they—Doctor Sanderson and she—had imposed upon Mrs. Morton's kindness long enough and that she had found a boarding-place for her mother and Charlie and herself.
"I am very sorry to say that I am not surprised, Sally, dear," Mrs. Morton returned, "although I am grievously disappointed. I had hoped that you would stay with us until the house was habitable again. I have tried," she added in some embarrassment, "to correct—"
Sally flushed quickly. "Please don't speak of it, dear Mrs. Morton," she said hastily. "It is—there has been nothing—"
"Nonsense, Sally! Don't you suppose I see, having eyes? But we won't speak of it, except to say that I am very sorry. And I think that you wouldn't be annoyed again. Won't you think better of your decision and stay until you can go to your own house?"
"Oh, but nobody knows when that will be," Sally replied, smiling. "Nothing has been done about it yet. Patty doesn't seem to know what to do. Uncle John was the moving spirit." There were tears in her eyes.
"I know, Sally, dear, I know. I am as sorry as I can be. I am afraid," she added with a queer little smile, "that I am sorrier for you than I am for Patty."
"Thank you. But you ought not to be, you know, for he rather—well, he steadied Patty."