She took a quick step toward him.
"You'll miss Mr.Cyril, Pete," she said pleasantly.
The old man stopped at once and turned.

He lifted his head a little proudly.
"Yes, Miss.

I--I was there when he was born.

Mr.Cyril's a fine man." "Indeed he is.

Perhaps it's your good care that's helped, some--to make him so," smiled the girl, vaguely wishing that she could say something that would drive the wistful look from the dim old eyes before her.
For a moment Billy thought she had succeeded.