“Every child that’s not getting a fair chance at what it ought to have, should be our child,” he said.
He went up to her and kissed her gently. “Good-night,” he said.
“Where are you going?”
“To the Black Rock woods.”
“Tell him—” she was inspired—“tell him to try to see Lydia again.”
“I was going to do that. But she won’t be allowed to. It’s pretty late now. She ought to have seen him a great many years ago—from the time he was born.”
“But she’s ever so much younger than he,” cried Mrs. Sandworth after him, informingly.
CHAPTER XIII