I'll
tell you what it is, John--"
But she never told him at that hour, for as she spoke Harry Hatton
opened the door and looked in. "I am wet--dripping wet, mother," he
said. "The mizzling rain turned to a downpour when I was halfway up the
hill, but I will be ready for dinner in twenty minutes."
"And I am not going to keep beef and pudding on the table twenty minutes
for you, Harry."
"That's right, mother. I don't deserve it. Send it to the kitchen. I'll
have some partridge and pastry when I come down."
He was gone before his mother's answer could leave her lips; but there
was a light in her eyes and a tone in her voice that made her a
different woman as she said, "We will not talk of Miss Lugur tonight,
John. There is plenty else to talk about. She is non-essential, and I
believe in the man who said, 'Skip the non-essentials.'"
This proposal was carried out with all John's wisdom and kindness. He
kept the conversation on the mill or on subjects relating to Harry's
proposed journey until there was a sudden silence which for a moment or
two no one appeared able to break.
Pages:
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115