Often he opened his eyes and smiled.
Sometimes he spoke a low word to William or Billy, or to one of the weeping women at the foot of the bed.

That the presence of his beloved master and mistress meant much to him was plain to be seen.
"I'm so sorry," he faltered once, "about that pretty dress--I spoiled, Miss Billy.

But you know--my hands--" "I know, I know," soothed Billy; "but don't worry.

It wasn't spoiled, Pete.

It's all fixed now." "Oh, I'm so glad," sighed the sick man.