And then she answered slowly and faintly,
"I'm aweary, Laddie, too tired like for new plans; and maybe, dearie, too old."
"You must go to bed," he said, with a burst of overwhelming compunction. "I ought not to have let you stop up like this. I should have kept what I had to say till to-morrow when you were rested. Come, think no more of it to-night, everything will look brighter to-morrow. I'll show you your bedroom."
And so he took her up-stairs, such a lot of stairs to the old country legs; but her curiosity overcame her fatigue sufficiently to make her peep into the double drawing-room where the gas lamp in the street threw weird lights and shadows on the ceiling, and touched unexpectedly on parts of mirrors or gilded cornices, giving a mysterious effect to the groups of furniture and the chandelier hanging in its holland covering.
"'Tis mighty fine!" she said, "but an unked place to my mind; like a churchyard somat."
Her bedroom did not look "unked," however, with a bright fire burning, and the inviting chintz-curtained bed and the crisp muslin-covered toilet-table, with two candles lighted. In the large looking-glass on the toilet-table, the figure of the little old woman was reflected among the elegant comfort of the room, looking all the more small and shabby and old, and out of place in contrast with her surroundings.
"Now make haste to bed, there's a good old mother; my room is next to this if you want anything, and I shall soon come up to bed. I hope you'll be very comfortable. Good-night."
And then he left her with a kiss; and she stood for some minutes quite still, looking at the scene reflected in the glass before her, peering curiously and attentively at it.
"And so Laddie is ashamed of his old mother," she said softly, with a little sigh; "and it ain't no wonder!"