"Do you notice he's rather looking younger?"
"’Tis that little child he's adopted," said the old gentleman. "The poor fellow's got something to love. All men need that—and even a few women," he chuckled. Mr. Bowdoin was addicted to portentous cynicism against the sex, which he wholly disbelieved in.
"The little child—yes," said Mr. James, more thoughtfully. "Do you know what he wants?"
"He wants?"
"She wants, I mean. Old Jamie came halting up to me yesterday, and ventured to suggest his Mercy might be invited to the dancing-class Mrs. Bowdoin is having for the children."
"Whew!" said Mr. Bowdoin. "The old lady'll never stand it."
"Never in the world," said Mr. James.
"Upon my word, I don't know why not, though!"
"I'm afraid she does, though!"
"I'll ask her, anyhow. And, James, if I don't get to the office to-morrow, I'll write you her answer."
