" So
saying, the Lady of the Bluffs rustled away, promising to call for father
in her 'bus in the morning.
"Is this true?" asked Evan, presently, and I had never seen his eyes look
so steely cold.
"Yes, I'm afraid so," I answered, meeting his gaze.
"Where is the money?"
"Under their pillows; they expect to buy the red goat harness to-morrow."
"It's a crying shame, the whole thing. The poor little babies!"
"What shall I do?"
"You? Nothing. I shall return the money. This is my business; man to
man. As a woman you inevitably must be emotional and make a doubtful
issue of it. You mother the boys well, God knows; this is my chance to
father them."
"But the money,--shall I get it now?"
"No, in the morning; they will bring it to me, and I will make them
understand, as far as babies may. In one way, I fear, we are unwittingly
somewhat to blame ourselves. Every one who is drawn toward a social and
financial class a little beyond his depth, and yields, though feeling the
danger, is unwise. I think, sweetheart, this commuter, his wife, and
babies had better be content to wade in safe shallows and not go within
touch of the Whirlpool current."
Then Evan and I went and stood silently by the two white beds, and now he
is walking up and down in the garden smoking quietly, while I am writing
up here, and unhappy because I think of to-morrow and the boys'
disappointment about the little red harness.
Pages:
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220