E-Book admin

That is
my prescription. But, first--always first--a cup of tea."
The inventor darted to the stove, snatched up the teapot, poured out a
cup of the universal restorer, scalding his forefinger in the hurry,
milked and sugared it just right, and bore it to his daughter, who was
nodding again. She drank it dutifully, like medicine.
Children do not comprehend tea. We have to grow up to it. It is the
appointed balm of fatigued and sorrowing middle age.
In its function of medicine, the strong draught revived her, giving a
twist to her pretty features, and sending a lively shudder through her
slender frame. Pet rose from her seat quite briskly.
"Now to bed. To bed at once. No delay. And mind you put on all the
blankets, and your heavy shawl a-top of them."
"Yes, father."
Marcus blushed, twirled his hat, and made a motion toward the door.
"You need not go, Mr. Wilkeson," said the inventor. "I beg that you will
not. I wish to settle up that little unfinished business with you
to-night."
Marcus saw that the inventor was in earnest. He coughed, and hesitated
what to say.


Pages:
312 313 314 315 316 317 318 319 320 321 322 323 324 325 326 327 328 329 330 331 332 333 334 335 336