"Georgie"
panion, and he picked him up and put him on his shoulder, from which high eminence the little lad cast glances of pure fury at the rest of us.
"Where is his mother?" Drusilla asked gravely.
"Hold tight, old man. We won't go into details till you've taken us in and fed us," Georgie said firmly.
It was only ten minutes' walk to the Little Mansion, and Drusilla gave us tea in the garden.
From Georgie's knee the travelling companion took gulps of sweet weak tea out of Georgie's saucer, and with a friendly absence of ceremony, he took small, fierce bites from Georgie's bread and butter.
Between bites he scowled at us. Drusilla could bear the suspense no longer.
"Georgie, I don't want to seem inquisitive, and I shouldn't like to hurry you, but what are you doing with that very cross little boy?"
He gulped down the remains of his tea and looked desperately from Drusilla to me.
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