"My dear mother!" he ejaculated, in a compassionate and forbearing way.
"Ah, Bob knows it is not better," laughed Deb. "And it isn't, Mary; you are no authority, my dear. Which of the public schools do you fancy, Bob?"
He mentioned his choice, and the University scholarships that were to be had there.
"Debbie!" implored Mrs Goldsworthy, under her breath.
"Hush-sh!" hissed her husband.
"You be quiet, Molly," Deb playfully adjured her. "This has nothing to do with you, or with anybody except Bob and me. You come and spend your next vacation with me at Redford, Bob, and then we can talk it all over together."
She nodded to him meaningly. He smiled with perfect comprehension.
"How can we thank you," Mr Goldsworthy murmured emotionally, for he also understood. "It is too, too—"
"It's all right, pater," the remarkable boy silenced him. "Aunt Deborah knows how we feel about it."
Mary sat in stolid silence, for once indifferent to her husband's dumb command; then tears welled into her tired eyes. She pocketed her pride for her child's sake. It had been her hopeless longing for years to give her darling's splendid abilities full scope.