She started back from him and sat straight in the chair.
"No! How can you? I'll have no idle son." She wiped her eyes and smoothed back her hair. "Let me see to the fire," she said briskly. "What do you mean, Alexander?"
"When did you eat last?"
"I don't know. I won't have you doing things out of pity. I don't need pity, or you, or anyone. I was tired to-night; and yes, perhaps I do need some food. Alec, you're not going to live here, buried."
"Will you have your milk hot or cold?" he said. "And here's a rice-pudding."
"You've never known me behave like that before. I'm getting old, but, still, I'm strong—very strong."
"Or would you rather have some meat? The pudding will be better at this time of night."
"You must forget it, Alexander. It seems as if I was complaining—unhappy. There's no woman happier than I am—and have always been. Remember that. But the sight of you, and being tired, and cold, and hungry——"
"I won't listen till you've had your supper," he said, and filled a pipe.
She ate quickly under the whip of her thoughts.