CHAPTER XXIV—A MODERN MIRACLE
MRS. DURHAM, the Doctor wants you,” said Charlie when McLeod’s footfall had died away.
“Charlie, dear, why don’t you call me ‘Mama’—surely you love me a little wee bit, don’t you?” she asked, taking the boy’s hand tenderly in hers.
“Yes’m,” he replied hanging his head.
“Then do say Mama. You don’t know how good it would be in my ears.”
“I try to but it chokes me,” he half whispered, glancing timidly up at her. “Let me call you Aunt Margaret, I always wanted an aunt and I think your name Margaret’s so sweet,” he shyly added.
She kissed him and said, “All right, if that’s all you will give me.” She passed on into the library where the Preacher waited her.
“My dear, I’ve just given young McLeod a piece of my mind. I wanted to say to you that you are entirely mistaken in his character. He’s a bad egg. I know all the facts about his treachery. He’s as smooth a liar as I’ve met in years.”
“With all his brute nature, there’s some good in him,” she persisted.