"I know what that
means--I'm not to be allowed to see her for 'a very, very long time.' Oh
yes, I quite understand."

He was in his heart thankful to know that his mother was better, but the
relief only showed itself in additional ill-temper and indignation.

"Geoffrey dear, don't speak like that," said Vicky. "I wish I hadn't
gone in to see mamma if you couldn't, but I didn't like to say so to
Elsa. I know you didn't _mean_ ever to vex mamma, and I'm sure you'll
never do it again, when she gets better, will you? Would you like me
just to run and tell Elsa and Great-Uncle Hoot-Toot how _dreadfully_
you'd like to see her just for a minute? If you just peeped in, you
know, and said 'Good night, mamma; I am so awfully glad you're better!'
that would be better than nothing. Shall I, Geoff?"

"No," he replied gruffly. "I want to ask nothing. And I'm not sure that
I _do_ want dreadfully to see her. Caring can't be all on one side."

Vicky's eyes were full of tears by this time.

"Oh, Geoff!" was all she could say. "Mamma not care for you!"

Her distress softened him a little.

"Don't _you_ cry about it, Vic," he said. "I do believe _you_ care for
me, anyway. You always will, won't you, Vicky?"

"Of course I shall," she sobbed, while some tears dropped into Geoff's
teacup. They were in the school-room by this time, and Vicky was at her
usual post.

"And some day," pursued Geoff, condescendingly, "perhaps we'll have a
little house of our own, Vicky, in the country, you know; we'll have
cocks and hens of our own, and always fresh eggs, of course, and
strawberries, and----"

"Cream," suggested Vicky, her eyes gleaming with delight at the tempting
prospect; "strawberries are nothing without cream."

"Of course," Geoff went on. "I was going to say cream, when you
interrupted me. We'd have a cream-cow, Vicky."

"A cream-cow," Vicky repeated. "What's that?"

"Oh, I don't know exactly. But one often reads of a milk-cow, so I
supposed there must be some cows that are all for cream, if some are for
milk. I'll find out all about it when----" But he stopped short. "Never
mind, Vicky. When I have a little farm of my own, in the country, I
promise you I'll send for you to come and live with me."

"But you'll invite mamma and Elsa, and Francie too, Geoff; I wouldn't
care to come without them," objected Vicky.

"Mamma; oh yes, if she likes to come. Perhaps Elsa and Frances will be
married, and have houses of their own by the