John went to the door
himself and brought Warrington back with him.
"Won't you have a cup of tea, Mr. Warrington?" asked the mother.
"Thank you, I will." Warrington stirred the tea, gazing pleasantly
from face to face.
The lines in his face seemed deeper than usual; the under lids of the
eyes were dark, and the squareness of the jaw was more prominent. John
saw no change, but the three women did. Warrington looked careworn.
"Well, John, I see that you have done it."
"Yes."
"I'm terribly sorry, but you couldn't back down now and live in town."
"You see, mother?" John smiled sadly.
"Yes, my son. You will do what you think best and manliest."
"How's the cat?" asked Warrington.
"It still wanders about, inconsolable," answered Patty. How careworn
he looked!
"Poor beast! It is lucky to have fallen in such good hands."
"When you are mayor," said Patty, "you must give me a permit to rescue
stray cats from the pound."
"I'll do more than that; I'll build a house of shelter for them."
"What time does your speaker begin?" inquired John, lighting a fresh
cigar.
"John, you are smoking too much," remonstrated Mrs.
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