His mother filled the teapot from the urn, she drew nearer the hearth the stuffed and cushioned blue chair--her own chair by right, but I saw there was one who might with impunity usurp it.

And when that _one_ came up the stairs--which he soon did, after, I suppose, some such attention to the toilet as the wild and wet night rendered necessary, and strode straight in-- "Is it you, Graham ?" said his mother, hiding a glad smile and speaking curtly.
"Who else should it be, mamma ?" demanded the Unpunctual, possessing himself irreverently of the abdicated throne.
"Don't you deserve cold tea, for being late ?" "I shall not get my deserts, for the urn sings cheerily." "Wheel yourself to the table, lazy boy: no seat will serve you but mine; if you had one spark of a sense of propriety, you would always leave that chair for the Old Lady." "So I should; only the dear Old Lady persists in leaving it for me.

How is your patient, mamma ?" "Will she come forward and speak for herself ?" said Mrs.Bretton, turning to my corner; and at this invitation, forward I came.

Graham courteously rose up to greet me.

He stood tall on the hearth, a figure justifying his mother's unconcealed pride.
"So you are come down," said he; "you must be better then--much better.
I scarcely expected we should meet thus, or here.