“My God!” ejaculated the colonel, throwing his book down and rising to pace the floor. “Proud of her! Weren’t we already proud of her? Will being an actress make her any dearer to us? Of all the damn fool ideas!”
“Custer! Custer! You mustn’t swear so before Eva,” reproved Mrs. Pennington.
“Swear?” he demanded. “Who in hell is swearing?”
A merry peal of laughter broke from the girl, nor could her mother refrain from smiling.
“It isn’t swearing when popsy says it,” cried the girl. “My gracious, I’ve heard it all my life, and you always say the same thing to him, as if I’d never heard a single little cuss word. Anyway, I’m going to bed now, popsy, so that you won’t contaminate me. According to momsy’s theory she should curse like a pirate by this time, after twenty-five years of it!”
She kissed them, leaving them alone in the little family sitting room.
“I hope the boy won’t take it too hard,” said the colonel after a silence.
“I am afraid he has been drinking a little too much lately,” said the mother. “I only hope his loneliness for Grace won’t encourage it.”
“I hadn’t noticed it,” said the colonel.
“He never shows it much,” she replied. “An outsider would not know that he had been drinking at all when I can see that he has had more than he should.”