“All right, my bonnie Nance, I’ll promise on my side never to ask you to go against your real conscience, and if you must have a Pope, I had rather it were Pope Julius than Pope Pilgrim.”
“Don’t, Miles. Popes are all wrong, and I don’t know whether Mr. Pilgrim would give the right hand of fellowship to Julius.”
Miles chuckled. “You may think yourself lucky you have not to adjust that question, Madame Nan.”
“There’s the quarter chiming, Frank will want his beef-tea.”
Presently after Miles laid his hand on his mother’s shoulder, and said, “Mother, here’s a daughter who thinks you want to turn us out because she is too slow and stupid for your home child.” And he drew Anne up blushing as if she were his freshly-won bride.
“My dear, are you sure you don’t want to go away from the old woman? Should you not be happier with him all to yourself?”
“I could not be happy if you were left,” said Anne. “May I go on as we did last winter? I will try to do better now I have him to help me.”
“My own dear child!”
That was the way Anne forgot her own people and her father’s house.