“O,” he exclaimed, “don’t make any—to me. I acted like a boor! I am sorry and ashamed. And I don’t deserve that you should take all this trouble for me. But I had been—”
“And I did sympathize with you to the utmost. The disappointment must have proved great. But I do believe it will be much better for you to wait. You were not strong enough to take up a college course.”
“Yet I had said those things over and over again. I knew them fairly well, at least. And to have all those boobies set up and sneer! I could have killed them!”
He looked so at the moment.
“O,” mamma said, “you must not think of this now. Do not try to keep the angry flames alive. It is a bright, lovely morning; and if you could make the effort to come down on the porch, you would feel so much better! Try this coffee—to please me.”
“You are very kind and solicitous.”
There was a little tremble in his voice; but he made no effort to touch the food.
“If you appreciate it, you will begin your breakfast before everything gets cold. You will feel more like rising then. Come, I mean to cheer you up in spite of yourself. This is not Doubting Castle, and I cannot take in Giant Despair.”
He smiled faintly then, and sipped his coffee.
“There,” mamma said, in her bright, cheery way, “you have made a small beginning, and that gives me faith in you. Now I must go back to my flock. Down stairs there is a cool, pleasant library, and a piano, which always stands open. I want you to feel at home.”