She was rosy; her neck was warm with blushes.
There was a moment of silence.
"You like to see it, don't you?" he asked.
The mother had them in her power. All the time his heart was beating
hard, and he was tight with anxiety. But he would fight her.
"Me like to see it!" exclaimed the old woman. "What should I like to see
her make a fool of herself for?"
"I've seen people look bigger fools," he said. Clara was under his
protection now.
"Oh, ay! and when was that?" came the sarcastic rejoinder.
"When they made frights of themselves," he answered.
Mrs. Radford, large and threatening, stood suspended on the hearthrug,
holding her fork.
"They're fools either road," she answered at length, turning to the
Dutch oven.
"No," he said, fighting stoutly. "Folk ought to look as well as they
can."
"And do you call THAT looking nice!" cried the mother, pointing a
scornful fork at Clara. "That--that looks as if it wasn't properly
dressed!"
"I believe you're jealous that you can't swank as well," he said
laughing.
Pages:
665
666
667
668
669
670
671
672
673
674
675
676
677
678
679
680
681
682
683
684
685
686
687
688
689