"I don't see it. Why is she poor? You're growing into a real young devil, you are." And the old man glanced into the young man's eyes in mistrust, and fear, and also in admiration.
They went into the kitchen, the late tea was ready. It was evident that Mary was waiting for them to come in. She had recovered her composure, but was more serious than usual. Jack laughed at her, and teased her.
"Ah, Mary," he said, "do you still believe in the Age of Innocence?"
"I still believe in good feeling," she retorted.
"So do I. And when good feeling's comical, I believe in laughing at it," he replied.
"There's something wrong with you," she replied.
"Quoth Aunt Matilda," he echoed.
"Aunt Matilda is very often right," she said.
"Never, in my opinion. Aunt Matilda is a wrong number. She's one of life's false statements."
"Hark at him!" laughed Old George.