"I felt myself start and color; I colored all the more from annoyance at feeling my cheeks begin to glow, and I could hear that I answered constrainedly:
"'No; I am not tired.'
"'I know by your voice, my dear,' Mrs. Harrington said with her usual thoughtfulness for others. 'It was selfish in me, I should not have allowed you to read so long, but I was so interested in the story that I forgot.'
"I closed the book; it was always very difficult for me to read aloud with any listener besides herself, but she seemed so troubled at what she considered her selfishness, that I said truthfully enough:
"'I did not know that I was tired, it is such a beautiful book that one forgets everything in the interest of the story.'
"'Yes, indeed,' Mrs. Harrington said, smelling at a little bouquet of roses she held in her hand, 'James,' she called in a louder voice, 'have you read it?'
"He started and exclaimed quickly—
"'Did you speak, mother? I beg your pardon, I did not know you were talking to me.'
"'I only asked if you had read this new novel of Bulwer's, that Mabel and I are so delighted with.'
"'Not yet,' he replied, settling back in his chair.