She turned her face to the door--a
beautiful, wasted face with hungry eyes that watched and waited
perpetually.
The door opened very quietly and unobtrusively, and a small,
insignificant man came in. He was about the size of the average schoolboy
of fifteen, and he walked with a slight limp, one leg being a trifle
shorter than the other. Notwithstanding this defect, his general
appearance was one of extreme neatness, from his colourless but carefully
trained moustache and small trim beard to his well-shod feet. His
clothes---like his beard--fitted him perfectly.
His close-cropped hair was also colourless and grew somewhat far back on
his forehead. His pale grey eyes had a tired expression, as if they had
looked too long or too earnestly upon the turmoil of life.
He came to the bedside and took the thin white hand outstretched to him
on which a wedding ring hung loose. He walked without awkwardness; there
was even dignity in his carriage.
He bent to kiss the uplifted face. "Have you slept well, dear?"
Her arms reached up and clasped his neck. "Oh, Stumpy, yes! I have had a
lovely night. Basil has been with me. He has gone out now; but I am going
to look for him presently."
"Many happy returns of the day to ye, Master Scott!" put in Biddy rather
pointedly.
"Ah yes. It is your birthday. I had forgotten. Forgive me, Stumpy
darling! You know I wish you always the very, very best.
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