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 *peating everything I say in another question. I'm always cross when I'm gouty. Don't heed me. Just enjoy yourself the best you can, for I don't see how I'm to hunt up your uncle for you in such weather."

Josephine thought he was talking queerly, but said nothing; only followed him slowly to the breakfast room, which Peter had done his best to make cheerful.

Mr. Smith sat down at table and began to open the pile of letters which lay beside his plate. Then he unfolded his newspaper, looked at a few items, and sipped his coffee. He had forgotten Josephine, though she had not forgotten him, and sat waiting until such time as it should please him to ask the blessing.

For the sake of her patient yet eager face, Peter took an unheard-of liberty: he nudged his master's shoulder.

"Hey? What? Peter!" angrily demanded Mr. Smith.

"Yes, suh. Certainly, suh. But I reckon little missy won't eat withouten it."

It was almost as disagreeable to the gentle