“You ought to be ashamed of yourself!” said the lady. “I hope you won’t suggest any such notion to them. I don’t believe they would have had so many peculiar views about the next world if some one hadn’t exerted an improper influence—you and your brother-in-law Tom Lawrence, their father, for instance.”
“Well,” said Mr. Burton, “if they are so susceptible to the influence of others, I suppose you have them about reformed in most respects? You have had entire charge of them for seven days.”
“Six—only six,” corrected Mrs. Burton, hastily. “I wish——”
“That there really was one day less for them to remain?” said Mr. Burton, looking his wife full in the face.
Mrs. Burton dropped her eyes quickly, trying first to turn in search of something she did not want, but her husband knew his wife’s nature too much to be misled by this ruse. Putting as much tenderness in his voice as he knew how to do, he said:
“Little girl, tell the truth. Haven’t you learned more than they?”
Mrs. Burton still kept her eyes out of range of those of her husband, but replied with composure:
“I have learned a great deal, as one must when brought in contact with a new subject, but the acquired knowledge of an adult is the source of new power, and of much and more knowledge to be imparted.”
Mr. Burton contemplated his wife with curiosity which soon made place for undisguised admiration, but when he turned his face again to the mirror he could see in its expression nothing but pity. Meanwhile the cessation of the children’s songs, the confused patter of little feet on the stair, and an agonized yelp from the dog Terry, indicated that the boys had left their chamber. Then the Burtons heard their own door-knob turned, an indignant kick which followed the discovery that the door was bolted, and then a shout of:
“Say!”