"
"Very curious, though rather larcenous," observed the young man,
laughing. "And this good lady over the mantel-piece, who is she?"
"That's Joanna Southcott. But, my good young gentleman, I will answer
all your questions another time. Your mother and I will have enough to
do to arrange matters before your father comes home. You will excuse my
freedom, Sir."
"Certainly," said Charley, rather amused than otherwise with the
landlady's bluntness. "I know I'm in the way just now; so I'll step out
for half an hour or so. I am sorry I frightened you, dear mother."
He stooped and kissed her fondly; and then, with a smile and a nod at
Mrs. Basil, stepped into the little passage and out of doors, and,
whistling, passed the window down the street.
"Your son has a light heart," said Mrs. Basil, looking at Harry very
earnestly. "How old is he?"
"Eighteen--or a little less."
"He looks his age _at least_," observed the other, emphatically.
"Yes; dark people always do."
"And your husband is dark, like him, I remember."
"Yes; his complexion is swarthy, though he is not slim, like Charles."
Mrs. Coe, still in the arm-chair into which she had first sunk, here
closed her eyes; either the faintness of which she had complained was
coming on again, or she did not wish to meet the other's searching gaze.
Pages:
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464