“Why, mother, did you think the wolves would get me?” said her son laughing, as he bent down and kissed her. “You see I am here and looking well, so you need not worry any more, but go right to bed, as you are very pale. Mother, have you any objections to my going to John Hilton’s to a party Friday night? I will not stay long.”
“No, my son, I should be pleased to have you go, as it is very lonesome for you to stay here all the time with only me as company,” said his mother, the tears springing to her eyes.
“No, no, mother, it is not lonesome here. It would be, though, if I had no mother to kiss me good night.”
He went to his mother and kissed her again, saying: “Drive those tears away, dear mother, and let me see you smile again. You have been thinking too deeply about me since I went away this evening.”
If he only knew what troubled her day and night he would have been troubled too, but as it were he only thought it was because he went away and left her alone, which he seldom did in the evening, lately. He went to bed thinking of all that had transpired since morning—the little lady he met by the lake—Ralph’s cruel and kind words—and seeing his mother in tears, which he seldom ever did.
“’Tis strange, very strange,” mused Paul as he fell asleep.
CHAPTER III.
The time for the party came in due season, and at John Hilton’s everything seemed to be hustle, bustle. The tea things were to be cleared away, the lamps lighted, and many other things to be seen to before the company arrived.
Nettie was tripping here and there, making bouquets, for the dining room tables, seemingly very happy. Her cousins, Warren and Minnie, were very happy to see their little city cousin, as they loved to call her, so happy—she always wore a happy smile now.