One brought her more tea and the other
filled the sauce dish with peaches. Ned motioned to them to remain
silent.
"And so you expect him to drop down on you any time?" Ned asked.
"Yes, my son and the boy. He's a cute little chap, Mike says. Mike
was named for his father, and the lad's name is Mike, too. I'm
anxious for him to get here. And I'm wondering whether he's light and
blonde, with brown hair and blue eyes like his father, or dark, like
my side of the family.
"What do you make of it?" Jack whispered to Oliver.
"What do I make of what?" demanded the other.
"Of the old lady and her three Mikes?" replied Jack, scornfully.
"Have you been asleep all this time?"
"I was waiting for you to express an opinion," Oliver declared. "Do
you think it possible that they would change the name of a prince of
the royal blood to Mike?"
"So you've caught on, at last!" whispered Jack. "Do you really think
we've tumbled on a streak of luck at the send-off?"
"I don't know," was the hesitating reply. "We'll have to cultivate
this old lady."
"Sure thing!"
"Did she say where her cottage is?" asked Oliver, directly. "We ought
to verify her story, it seems to me. I'd like to hear Ned's opinion!"
"Do you remember what she said about Mike II.
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