“Try?”
“Yes, try to let her alone. But it’s difficult.”
“Stuff and nonsense. Laura isn’t indispensable.”
“I know those are not your real views.”
“You’re not her mother; for which you may thank Heaven.”
“I do,” said George, and took his leave, rather consoled. He would have been even more cheerful had he known that Laura’s door was ajar, and Laura was listening for the bang of the hall door. When she heard it, she went down to her mother.
“Who was your visitor, mamma?”
“Oh, George Neston.”
“What did he come about?”