“Yes, I will write this evening. But come, Rob, we’ve time for just one more game.“
The note was written, and the next evening Mr. Allen called to arrange for Fred’s coming four days later. The boy was to be left in the care of Bess, on whose judgment Mr. Allen felt he could rely. After an hour spent in discussing various minor details, Mr. Allen said, as he rose to go,—
“We have said nothing to Fred as yet. Miss Carter, about this; so suppose you tell him, that is, if you can spend time to-morrow to come down for a few moments. And, in case I do not have time to call again, I will say now how much Mrs. Allen and I feel indebted to you for taking our son into your home.”
And with a stately bow he was gone. “Did you ever see such an old iceberg?” remarked Bess disrespectfully, as she returned to the parlor fire to thaw herself out. “Between him and Mrs. Allen I should think Fred would be thankful for any change. Next Tuesday! Well, there’s a good deal to be done between now and then. Shall you worry, mother, with a new son on your hands?”
