“Oh, because he’s a vegetable boy, and poor. She said we’d got to respect your position in society,” replied Reginald, with a grin.
“She scolded me awfully,” declared Gladys, nodding her head sagely.
“Hush, my daughter,” said Mr. Williams, with unaccustomed severity. “You must not criticise mamma’s actions, for she loves you all and tries to act for your best good. But it’s nothing against Will Carden to be a vegetable boy, you know. How old is he?”
“About sixteen, I think,” said Mary Louise.
“Well, when I was his age,” continued Mr. Williams, “I was shovelling coal in a smelting furnace.”
“That isn’t as respectable as being a vegetable boy, is it?” asked Theodore, gravely.
“Both callings are respectable, if they enable one to earn an honest livelihood,” returned his father, with a smile. “There is no disgrace at all in poverty. The only thing that hopelessly condemns a person is laziness or idle inaction.”
“But mother——” began Reginald.
“Mother sometimes forgets how very poor we ourselves used to be,” interrupted Mr. Williams, looking earnestly into the circle of eager faces; “and I am very glad she can forget it. I’ll talk to her, however, about your friend Will Carden, and I’ve no doubt when she learns how brave he has been she will at once withdraw her objections to his playing with you.”
“Thank you, papa,” said Mary Louise, reaching out to take his hand in her slim white one.