"Georgie"
"Well!" said I. "Upon my word!"
"Something awful must have happened to him," she said hurriedly. "He must be ill or have broken his leg, or something worse. Evidently he didn't want to frighten his mother, or he would have wired to her. It is nice to feel that he always turns to us when he is in trouble, isn't it?"
"Humph!" said I, turning my son right way up. He happened to be standing on his head in the sand, in a vain attempt to swallow himself whole.
"Martin, you know how he relies upon you."
"I ought to by this time," I said drily.
Drusilla looked sentimentally out to sea.
"I always feel," said she, "that we owe something to Georgie. I always remember that I at least have much to make up to him."
I laughed. I believe Drusilla will hold to her dying day the opinion that Georgie's heart is given wholly to her. All the disgraceful things he has done, ever since she
80
