"And you were so happy yesterday. Is it because Mr. Gallatin's gone away?"
Courtney, flushing deeply, looked hastily round. "Sh! You mustn't say those things!"
"Why not?"
Already she was teaching the boy to conceal! "I didn't mean that, Winchie," said she. "You are to say whatever you please—as always."
"I don't want you to like Mr. Gallatin. I don't like him."
"Why not?"
"Because he likes you."
"You wouldn't want anybody not to like your mamma, would you?"
"No." A long silence. Then: "But he looks at you exactly like papa does when he's really seeing you."
Courtney's skin burned. The same story—always the same! "Well—dear—I'll not like him."