She had that red cloak of hers with her and that miserable little dog; that's how I know.

She must be going to stay late.

You look tired, my son; have you had a hard day ?" added she, kissing him on the cheek.
"Yes, perhaps I am a little tired, but I'll be all right.

Have you looked at the slate lately?
I'll go myself," and he turned and entered his office.
On the slate lay the rose.

He picked it up and held it to his nose in a preoccupied way.
"One of mother's," he said listlessly, laying it back among his papers.
"She so seldom does that sort of thing.