pipes.

He made an awkward movement which shook the chess-table. The General
said behind him: "Look out, George! What--what!"

George went up to his mother.

"Let's have a look at that, Mother."

Mrs. Pendyce leaned back in her chair and handed up her work with a
smile of pleased surprise.

"My dear boy, you won't understand it a bit. It's for the front of my
new frock."

George took the piece of work. He did not understand it, but turning
and twisting it he could breathe the warmth of the woman he loved. In
bending over the embroidery he touched Mrs. Bellew's shoulder; it was
not drawn away, a faint pressure seemed to answer his own. His mother's
voice recalled him:

"Oh, my needle, dear! It's so sweet of you, but perhaps"

George handed back the embroidery. Mrs. Pendyce received it with a
grateful look. It was the first time he had ever shown an interest in
her work.

Mrs. Bellew had taken up a palm-leaf fan to screen her face from the
fire. She said slowly: