now, so I made Miss McPherson wire. And now you know."
"You are even nicer than I thought you were," laughed Judy. "And what about Madame Claire? Does she know too, that you're not—seriously ill?"
He moved his head slightly.
"She knows." He smiled, and Judy noticed how his smile lightened his face with its rather tragic lines and hollows. "She said nothing but sudden death or an earthquake would get you away from your family. But I've been pretty bad. Even Miss McPherson admits that. Very bad. And," he said, glowering into the corner where Miss McPherson sat, "I may be worse."
"Well, you won't be while Miss Pendleton's here," said she, "so I'll just be taking a little air. With your permission."
"Bless you, run along! Poor child, she's hardly left me for a minute."
As Miss McPherson went out, he watched her upright little figure affectionately, from under his strikingly white eyebrows.
"A plucky little soul," he said, "and she has borne with me wonderfully. Now, Judy, tell me about your trip. Tell me about Claire, everything
