“Yes you would; and you shall not be disappointed, for I shall go too.”
“You will, aunt?” cried Scarlett.
“Yes; if you promise to be very careful. And you are sure the boat is safe?”
“As safe as being on this lawn, my dear aunt. You trust to me. I am glad you are going.”
Aunt Sophia looked at the frank manly face before her, saw the truth in the eager eyes, and her thin, yellow, careworn countenance relaxed into a smile.
“Well, I’m going, James, because I don’t want to disappoint your little wife,” she said to him in a low tone; “but I don’t see what pleasure it can give you to have a disagreeable old woman with you in the boat.”
They had moved off a little way from the others now, Scarlett having kept his arm round the old lady’s waist, evidently greatly to her gratification, though if it had been hinted at, she would have repudiated the fact with scorn.
“Don’t you, auntie?” he said seriously. “Well, I’ll tell you.” He paused, then, and seemed to be thinking.
“Well?” she said sharply; “why is it? Now you are making up a flowery speech.”
“No,” he said softly. “I was thinking of how precious little a young fellow thinks of his mother till she has gone. Auntie, every now and then, when I look at you, there is a something that brings her back so much. That’s why I like to have you with me in this trip.”