“Making me feel how old I am by telling me about his children.”
“My grandchildren!” she exclaimed with a blush.
“Well, if you choose to put it so.”
She laughed again, vaguely, and was silent. I hesitated a moment and then put out my hand.
“I see you are tired. I shouldn’t have ventured to come in at this hour if your son—”
The son stepped between us. “Yes, I asked him to come,” he said to his mother, in his clear self-assertive voice. “I haven’t told him anything yet; but you’ve got to—now. That’s what I brought him for.”
His mother straightened herself, but I saw her eye waver.
“Lancelot—” she began.
“Mr. Amyot,” I said, turning to the young man, “if your mother will let me come back to-morrow, I shall be very glad—”
He struck his hand hard against the table on which he was leaning.