"Where did you learn to read and write then, Bertie?"
"In school. I went when—when she was here."
"Your mother?"
"Yes."
"And have you brothers and sisters?"
"No. Just Uncle Nick."
"Does he give you studies to learn?" Mrs. Lowell's catechism was given in such gentle, interested tones that the answers had come easily up to now.
Now the boy hesitated, and she began to expect the stereotyped answer which he had learned was most pleasing, and the easiest way out with his uncle.
"I—" he began, and caught her look. "Sometimes," he added. "But Uncle Nick says it isn't any use—and I don't care anyway, because—she isn't here."