Page:The little blue devil (IA littlebluedevil00mackiala).pdf/76

curious to know just what and who he is? He’s not an ordinary boy–I'm certain there's something extraordinarily interesting about him, and I’ll get it out of him presently.”

“I’m not perfectly sure that you’ll find him as easy to manage as you think,” remarked the Professor. However, he had unbounded faith in his wife’s powers of persuasion, and added, as she looked slightly downcast:

“If anyone can act Grand Inquisitor with absolute charm and discretion, Kitten, it’s certainly you. I’m quite sorry for that helpless young man upstairs.”

“You are pleased to be insulting, Winthrop–I won’t have it,” and Alison rumpled the Professor’s hair in a way he affected to dislike.

A week’s quiet, good food, and careful nursing did wonders for Tony. The fever departed, pain became almost a thing of the past, and the strain apparent in eyes and lips relaxed. Alison judged the time for conversation had come and chose a morning when she found the grey eyes, no longer drowsy or averted, but steadily fixed on her whenever she looked up from her sewing. She smiled at him by way of prefix, her brightest, most irresistible smile, and was sufficiently encouraged by the shadowy one she got in return.

What had he to do with her? Tony was reflecting ungraciously; she was thousands of miles from him really. But–he was in her house, worse luck, and he must bear up under this weight of obligation they had thrust on him. How many weeks had they been feeding and tending him already?

Alison put down her sewing and seated herself very close to the boy, propped up a little on his pillows to-day.

“Now you really are getting well,” she began.

“Yes, I’m much better, thank you”–coldly and politely.