" He patted
her gray head. "Mrs. T.," he declared, "I've brought you a nice big
collar of Irish lace--bought it in Belfast, b'gosh. It comes down
around your neck and buckles right here with an old ivory cameo I
picked up in Burma and which formerly was the property of a Hindu
queen."
Mrs. Tully simpered with pleasure and protested that her boy was too
kind. "You haven't changed a single speck," she concluded proudly.
"Has the pie?"
"I should say not."
"How many did you make?"
"Two."
"May I have one all for myself, Mrs. Tully?"
"Indeed you may, my dear."
"Thank you, but I do not want it for myself. Mrs. Tully, will you
please wrap one of those wonderful pies in a napkin and the instant
George Sea Otter comes in with the car, tell him to take the pie over
to Colonel Pennington's house and deliver it to Miss Sumner? There's
a girl who doubtless thinks she has tasted pie in her day, and I want
to prove to her that she hasn't." He selected a card from his card-
case, sat down, and wrote:
Dear Miss Sumner:
Here is a priceless hot wild-blackberry pie, especially manufactured
in my honour. It is so good I wanted you to have some. In all your
life you have never tasted anything like it.
Sincerely, BRYCE CARDIGAN.
He handed the card to Mrs.
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