pend on charity. Our husbands
don't care to walk home with us. Your father was bent on your coming."
Harry laughed a short laugh; the utter darkness of Mr. Sterling's
condition struck through his agitation down to his sense of humor.
Mrs. Mortimer smiled at him; she could not help it: the secret between
them was so pleasant to her, even while she hated herself for its
existence.
They had reached the meadow now, halfway through their journey. A
little gate led into it and Harry stopped, leaning his arm on the top
rail.
"Oh, no! we must go on," she murmured.
"They won't move for an hour yet," he answered, and then he suddenly
broke out:
"How--how funny it is! I hardly remembered you, you know."
"Oh, but I remembered you, a pretty little boy;" and she looked up at
his face, half a foot above her. Mere stature has much effect and the
little boy stage seemed very far away. And he knew that it did, for he
put out his hand to take hers. She drew back.
"No," she said.
Harry blushed. She took hold of the gate and he, yielding his place,
let her pass through. For a minute or two they walked on in silence.
"Oh, how silly you are!" she cried then, beginning with a laugh and
ending with a strange catch in her throat. "Why, you're only just out
of knickerbockers!"
"I don't care, I don't care, Hilda----"
"Hush, hush! Oh, indeed, you must be quiet! See, we are nearly home."
He seized her hand, not to be quelled this time, and, bending low over
it, kissed it. She did not draw it away, but watched him with a
curious, pained smile. He looked up in her face, his own glowing with
excitement. He righted himself to his full stature and, from that
stooping, kissed her on the lips.
"Oh, you silly boy!" she moaned, and found herself alone in the meadow.
He had gone swiftly back by the way they had come, and she went on to
her home.
"Well, the boy saw you home?" asked Mr. Mortimer when he arrived half
an hour later.
"Yes," she said, raising her head from the cushions of the sofa on
which he found her lying.
"I supposed so, but he didn't come into the smoking-room when he got
back. Went straight to bed, I expect. He's a nice-mannered young
fellow, isn't he?"
"Oh, very!" said Mrs. Mortimer.
II.
Mr. Mortimer had never been so looked after, cosseted, and comforted
for his early start as the next morning, nor the children found their
mother so patient and affectionate. She was in an ab
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