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Updated: May 22, 2025
She had her golden-haired little girl in one arm, and she laid the other hand caressingly on her husband's shoulder, "There is none: I am happy," she said in a low, earnest tone; and then added laughingly, "or I shall be as soon as Edward gets well of sciatica and Wang-Ho recovers from his chills." Mr. Denham begged us to go before him, and his wife led the way to the dining-room.
I sat down quickly beside them to prevent my host's attempting to rise, and the hour that elapsed before dinner flew by in interesting conversation. "I am so sorry I had to go for a little while," said Ruth, returning to announce that meal, "but my good Wang-Ho is sick to-day, and I had to help him a little." "Where is Lester, Ruth?" asked her husband.
The weather was warm, and he was without coat or vest, and had a sash of red knitted silk, such as Mexicans wear, round his middle. Ruth took the dishes from him and placed them on the table. "Please tell Wang-Ho about the coffee, Lester," she said as he retired. "Is that man a servant, Ruth?" I asked in an astonished whisper.
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