Your Electronic Books

Then he stood with his legs apart, in his old attitude on
the hearthrug, and said hesitatingly:
"Well, mother?"
"Well, my son?"
She sat in the rocking-chair, feeling somehow hurt and humiliated, for
his sake.
"Do you like her?"
"Yes," came the slow answer.
"She's shy yet, mother. She's not used to it. It's different from her
aunt's house, you know."
"Of course it is, my boy; and she must find it difficult."
"She does." Then he frowned swiftly. "If only she wouldn't put on her
BLESSED airs!"
"It's only her first awkwardness, my boy. She'll be all right."
"That's it, mother," he replied gratefully. But his brow was gloomy.
"You know, she's not like you, mother. She's not serious, and she can't
think."
"She's young, my boy."
"Yes; and she's had no sort of show. Her mother died when she was a
child. Since then she's lived with her aunt, whom she can't bear. And
her father was a rake. She's had no love."
"No! Well, you must make up to her."
"And so--you have to forgive her a lot of things.


Pages:
234 235 236 237 238 239 240 241 242 243 244 245 246 247 248 249 250 251 252 253 254 255 256 257 258