"Yes," he answered. "I was at Theodora's side all last Sunday and I learned this lesson in the sweetest way imaginable."
"I wish you to talk modestly before your sisters, and I do not like to hear the Sabbath called Sunday."
Robert laughed and answered: "Well, mother, we have so little sunshine in Scotland, we really cannot speak of any day as Sunday."
"You may laugh, Robert, but such things are related to spiritual ordinances, and are not joking matters."
"You are right, mother. Let us get back to business. Will you accept my proposal, or do you prefer to go to your own home?"
"I have been used to consider this house my own home, for thirty-seven years, and if I leave it, I wonder what kind of housekeeping will go on in it, with a college woman to superintend things? You would be left to the servant lasses, and their doings and not-doings would be enough to turn my hair gray."
"Then, mother, you will stay here, as I propose?"
"I cannot do my duty, and leave."
"I thank you, mother." Then, turning to his sisters, he said: "I hope you are satisfied, girls."
"There is no other course for us," answered Isabel. "We must stay where mother stays. It would be unkind to leave her now—when you are practically leaving her."