PEGGY-IN-THE-RAIN
"I've got one, sir," confided Hurd confidentially as, a quarter of an hour later, Gordon handed him his overcoat.
"Eh? One what, you old reprobate?"
"A chestnut, sir; it's in my pocket, sir, and it's done a world of good. I had some difficulty getting one, sir, at this time of year, but here it is." He exhibited it proudly.
"By jove!" said Gordon, "so it is! And they're out of season, too, Hurd."
"Yes, sir, but a cousin of my wife's has a tree of them, sir, in her yard over on Staten Island and her little boy had some he'd kept. Mrs. Ames is waiting up for you, sir, in her room."
"I'll go right up. You were very fortunate, Hurd. You—er—you've noticed an improvement already, you say?"
"Oh, yes, sir! Why, last week I could scarcely bend my back, sir!"
"Quite wonderful! Send a couple of sandwiches and the Scotch to my room, will you?"
Mrs. Ames had not been wasting her time, as the little pile of gray envelopes, sealed, addressed and stamped, lying at her elbow on the writing desk, attested. She laid down her pen as Gordon
45
