“Now see here, Will, don’t make the matter serious by an unnecessary opposition; don’t drive the children into a position where they will consider themselves persecuted lovers.”
Mrs. Blair had not until that instant thought of this argument, and she was so pleased with it, as justifying her own course with the children, as she had artfully called them, that she pressed it.
“No, don’t do that. Just let them alone. They’re as likely as not to outgrow it; that is, if there is anything between them to outgrow. They’ll probably imagine themselves in love a dozen times before either of them is married.”
“Don’t talk of marriage!” said the judge, with a little shudder.
Mrs. Blair, who had so well dispelled her own fears, could laugh at her husband’s.
“Just let them alone,” she said; “or leave it to me.”
“Yes,” said the judge peevishly, “leave it to you. You’d probably aid and abet them.” And then, instantly regretting his ill humor, he added hastily: “You’re so kind-hearted.”
Mrs. Blair kissed his white hair gently and gave his cheek a little pat.
“You’d better take a nap,” she said.