“Perhaps, by nature, but she has been shut up in a convent for the best part of her life, and that is not considered to be a good preparation for fighting one’s way through the world!”
“She’ll be able to fight her own battles, never fear!” was Elinor’s reply.
Just then they encountered Bobby Bates, who lifted his cap as he hurried past them.
“Where are you going so fast, Mr. Bates?” said Elinor Leyton.
“I am going back to the Hotel to fetch Mamma’s fur boa!” he answered.
They were passing a lighted lamp at the time, and she noticed that the lad’s eyes were red, and his features bore traces of distress.
“Are you ill?” she enquired quickly, “or in any trouble?”
He halted for a minute in his stride.
“No! no! not exactly,” he said in a low voice, and then, as if the words came from him against his will, he went on, “But O! I do wish someone would speak to Mamma about the way she treats me. It’s cruel—to strike me with her stick before all those people, as if I were a baby, and to call me such names! Even the servant William laughs at me! Do all mothers do the same, Miss Leyton? Ought a man to stand it quietly?”
“Decidedly not!” cried Elinor, without hesitation.