More black than ashbuds in the front of March.
He turned the pages abruptly and began “The Charge of the Light Brigade.” It would never do for him to get sentimental.
Mrs. Budd opened the door and pushed her head into the room. “Mr. Ralph Dodson’s here an’ would like to see you—on business,” she announced.
“To see me?” asked Hugh.
“No. Miss Lowell.”
“I wonder what about,” murmured that young woman, putting down the paper she was marking.
“He didn’t say.”
“Well, I don’t care to see him.”
“Hadn’t you better?” suggested Hugh. “If he’s got something up his sleeve we might as well know what it is.”
“All right. He can come in.”