“Of course I do,” she said, laughing, and tossing her white head. “I should only be half a woman if I didn’t.”
“He is a handsome lad, isn’t he?” said the sergeant.
“Indeed he is. Every one looks at him in the street. Wasn’t it a joke that old Mrs. Purdy should think he was our boy? I shall never forget the way Eugene looked at her when she fell on his neck, and said he was the image of his father.”
“She is getting old and stupid,” said the sergeant indulgently, “and forgets things. Hello, here’s our young man,” as Eugene came quietly into the room. “What have you been doing, son?”
“I was reading,” said Eugene; “that is,” he added hesitatingly, as he met Mrs. Hardy’s scrutinizing glance, “I was looking beyond my history lesson for to-morrow.”
“Your first statement is true,” said Mrs. Hardy quietly. “If you were only reading, you were not studying. I don’t care to have him learn lessons in the evening,” she said in an explanatory tone to her husband, “because it tires him.”
“No child should study in the evening,” said the sergeant gruffly.
“I wished to find out what Washington did when he became a man,” said Eugene.
“You like to read about the father of this country, don’t you?” asked Mrs. Hardy.
“I do. I admire him. He was a great man,” said the boy.