On entering his room at the hotel he found Rupert Filgee standing
moodily by the window, while his brother Johnny, overcome by a repletion
of excitement and collation, was asleep on the single arm-chair. Their
presence was not unusual, as Mr. Ford, touched by the loneliness of
these motherless boys, had often invited them to come to his rooms to
look over his books and illustrated papers.
"Well?" he said cheerfully.
Rupert did not reply or change his position. Mr. Ford, glancing at
him sharply, saw a familiar angry light in the boy's beautiful eyes,
slightly dimmed by a tear. Laying his hand gently on Rupert's shoulder
he said, "What's the matter, Rupert?"
"Nothin'," said the boy doggedly, with his eyes still fixed on the pane.
"Has--has--Mrs. Tripp" (the fair proprietress) "been unkind?" he went on
lightly.
No reply.
"You know, Rupe," continued Mr. Ford demurely, "she must show SOME
reserve before company--like to-day. It won't do to make a scandal."
Rupert maintained an indignant silence. But the dimple (which he usually
despised as a feminine blot) on the cheek nearer the master became
slightly accented.
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