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January, that grim month, was treating London with its usual severity. Early in the morning a bank of fog had rolled up off the river, and was deepening from pearly white to a lurid brown. It pressed on the window-pane like a blanket, leaving dark, damp rivulets on the glass. "Awful!" said Derek. "Your mater's train will be late." "Yes. Damned nuisance.
Besides, I didn't want to disturb any one, especially your mother." "Well, just now I found the drawing-room window wide open, and mater's bed hasn't been touched. What do you make of that?" Before Dion could reply the boy abruptly started up. "I heard something. I know I did."
"Come in. Ethel, I want you to meet Mr. Hawkes Mr. Hawkes my sister. Mr. Brent Mr. Hawkes." Having satisfactorily introduced everyone he said to Ethel: "See if the mater's well enough to come down, like a dear, will ye? This gentleman has come from London to see her. D'ye mind? And come back yourself, too, like an angel. He says he has some business that concerns the whole family."
Ronald came forward and placed them in her hand. "I picked 'em up this morning, and then when you sent me off for the doc, I forgot all about 'em. I'm sorry. I only came across them when I was undressing, and you were busy in the mater's room, so I thought I'd keep them safe till to-morrow. I hope they are not important," he added.
A man with a man's job to do can't have time for the softness of women about him: he can't stop to look to right or left! But when I'm in Harley Street well there! No more decayed castles or wooden huts for you! "I'm aching to see you, Marcella. It's the Mater's birthday on Easter Sunday, so I'm running down to see her on Saturday.
"I think," answered young Nisbet, with one of his illogical blushes, "that I had just asked you what sort of a man you thought you would like to marry. I remember I was on the point of saying that I thought perhaps you had ideas like er like your mother's." Dorothy raised her eyebrows. "Like the Mater's?" "About a man being big and prominent, and all that, you know," floundered young Nisbet.
"You are not going out, Reginald?" she asked, seeing that he was. "I'll be back for tea, mater," said Reggie weakly, plunging his hands into his jacket pockets. Snip. Off came a head. Reggie almost jumped. "I should have thought you could have spared your mother your last afternoon," said she. Silence. The Pekes stared. They understood every word of the mater's.
"There," said Reggie, earnestly, "you're in luck, dear heart! The mater's a great speaker, especially in moments of excitement. I'm not looking forward to the time when she starts on me. Between ourselves, laddie, and meaning no disrespect to the dear soul, when the mater is moved and begins to talk, she uses up most of the language." "Outspoken, is she?"
I just can't stand for this!" he groaned, and the tragedy in his voice contrasted so quaintly with his comic appearance, bareheaded, hair ruffled, and costume sketchy, that I felt rising symptoms of hysteria, which had to be controlled. "I must get you and the mater and Milly into safety somehow. To-night is the limit. Mater's more dead than alive, and Mill isn't much better."
"she'd die of loneliness. And she'd die of culture in the mater's highbrow establishment. Whereas, if you would take her in give her a shake-down here she wouldn't give much trouble " He stammered as even the most audacious young warrior must do when making so astounding a proposal.
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