She stood still for a moment before she set her teeth and went on up toward her own room. Bix was outside the Old Gentleman’s door, scowling in the sun-drenched corridor. But as Judy came to the top of the stairs, he saw her, and his scowl vanished beneath a friendly, admiring smile as he came to meet her. “Did he recognize you?” Judy asked evenly. “You mean Grandfather? No, I don’t think so. But the lady in white said she was sure that he knew I was there. I hope he did,” said Bix, and added, “He’s changed a lot since I saw him last.” “It’s been a longtime, Bix,” she reminded him. A tinge of color crept into his face, that was almost as brown as Sam’s. “I guess I’ve been a pretty rotten grandson not to have come home before this.” “I suppose you’ve been very busy.” Her tone was completely noncommittal, with no hint of censure in it, but his eyes sharpened a little as he studied her. “Well, yes, I have,” he admitted. “I wanted him to be proud of me, to make something of myself.”
