"Well, you can shift it off your mind. I give you my word. You believe me, don't you?"
"Yes'm."
"And I believe you. So far we understand each other. Now, Slawson, I am going to prove that I trust you. I am going to ask you an honest question. I want an honest answer."
"Yes'm."
"You are the mother of four children. You have had experience in bringing them up right. I have had one child—one grandchild. I have brought them both up—wrong. What's the trouble?"
Martha did not reply at once.
Madam Crewe waited patiently, making no attempt to hurry her, and the room was as still as if it had been empty. At last Martha spoke.
"O' course I d'know what the trouble was, if there was any, with your boy. But it seems to me, I see where you kind o' slipped up on it with Miss Katherine."
"Well?"
"Firstoff, the way I look at it, childern is all selfish, which is only to say they're human, like the rest of us. They're selfish an' they're mischeevious, an' they're contrairy, for, when all's said an' done, they're—childern. What we want to do is, learn'm not to be selfish an' mischeevious an' contrairy. An' how can we learn'm not to be it, if we're that way ourselves? There's a lady I usedta work out for—(you know her—Mrs. Sherman, Mr. Frank Ronald's sister). She give her boy every bloomin' thing money could buy——. But she never give'm a square deal. You can take it from me, what a young 'un respec's is a square deal. He mayn't like it, but he respec's it. An' you for givin' it to'm.