“Don't you worry,” her mother said, and patted her on the shoulder. “Everything will come out all right; don't you fear, Alice. Can't you see that beside any other girl in town you're just a perfect QUEEN? Do you think any young man that wasn't prejudiced, or something, would need more than just one look to——”
But Alice moved away from the caressing hand. “Never mind, mama. I wonder he looks at me at all. And if he does again, after seeing my brother with those horrible people——”
“Now, now!” Mrs. Adams interrupted, expostulating mournfully. “I'm sure Walter's a GOOD boy——”
“You are?” Alice cried, with a sudden vigour. “You ARE?”
“I'm sure he's GOOD, yes—and if he isn't, it's not his fault. It's mine.”
“What nonsense!”
“No, it's true,” Mrs. Adams lamented. “I tried to bring him up to be good, God knows; and when he was little he was the best boy I ever saw. When he came from Sunday-school he'd always run to me and we'd go over the lesson together; and he let me come in his room at night to hear his prayers almost until he was sixteen. Most boys won't do that with their mothers—not nearly that long. I tried so hard to bring him up right—but if anything's gone wrong it's my fault.”
“How could it be? You've just said——”
“It's because I didn't make your father this—this new step earlier. Then Walter might have had all the advantages that other——”
“Oh, mama, PLEASE!” Alice begged her. “Let's don't go over all that again. Isn't it more important to think what's to be done about him? Is he going to be allowed to go on disgracing us as he does?”