Part 3 (2/2)

with a cheerful appet.i.te. ”What you can't be stone-cold sure of to- morrow you drive a nail in to-day.”

He ate a tremendous breakfast as a discreet precautionary measure.

The dark dining-room was warm, and the food was substantial. It was comfortable in its way.

”You'd better hold the hall door pretty tight when you go out, and don't open it far,” said Mrs. Bowse as he got up to go. ”There's wind enough to upset things.”

Tembarom went out in the hall, and put on his insufficient overcoat.

He b.u.t.toned it across his chest, and turned its collar up to his ears.

Then he bent down to turn up the bottoms of his trousers.

”A pair of arctics would be all to the merry right here,” he said, and then he stood upright and saw Little Ann coming down the staircase holding in her hand a particularly ugly tar-tan-plaid woolen neck-scarf of the kind known in England as a ”comforter.”

”If you are going out in this kind of weather,” she said in her serene, decided little voice, ”you'd better wrap this comforter right round your neck, Mr. Tembarom. It's one of Father's, and he can spare it because he's got another, and, besides, he's not going out.”

Tembarom took it with a sudden emotional perception of the fact that he was being taken care of in an abnormally luxurious manner.

”Now, I appreciate that,” he said. ”The thing about you. Little Ann, is that you never make a wrong guess about what a fellow needs, do you?”

”I'm too used to taking care of Father not to see things,” she answered.

”What you get on to is how to take care of the whole world --initials on a fellow's socks and m.u.f.flers round his neck.” His eyes looked remarkably bright.

”If a person were taking care of the whole world, he'd have a lot to do,” was her sedate reception of the remark. ”You'd better put that twice round your neck, Mr. Tembarom.”

She put up her hand to draw the end of the scarf over his shoulder, and Tembarom stood still at once, as though he were a little boy being dressed for school. He looked down at her round cheek, and watched one of the unexpected dimples reveal itself in a place where dimples are not usually antic.i.p.ated. It was coming out because she was smiling a small, observing smile. It was an almost exciting thing to look at, and he stood very still indeed. A fellow who did not own two pairs of boots would be a fool not to keep quiet.

”You haven't told me I oughtn't to go out till the blizzard lets up,”

he said presently.

”No, I haven't, Mr. Tembarom,” she answered. ”You're one of the kind that mean to do a thing when they've made up their minds. It'll be a nice bit of money if you can keep the page.”

”Galton said he'd give me a chance to try to make good,” said Tembarom. ”And if it's the hit he thinks it ought to be, he'll raise me ten. Thirty per. Vanas...o...b..lts won't be in it. I think I'll get married,” he added, showing all his attractive teeth at once.

”I wouldn't do that,” she said. ”It wouldn't be enough to depend on.

New York's an expensive place.”

She drew back and looked him over. ”That'll keep you much warmer,”

she decided. ”Now you can go. I've been looking in the telephone-book for confectioners, and I've written down these addresses.” She handed him a slip of paper.

Tembarom caught his breath.

”Hully gee!” he exclaimed, ”there never were TWO of you made! One used up all there was of it. How am I going to thank you, anyhow!”

”I do hope you'll be able to keep the page,” she said. ”I do that, Mr.

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