Claudia handed it to her aunt.
“Humph!” said Lady Mildred, “a very school-girl production, dictated by her papa and mamma, I suppose.”
“Not stiffer than mine was,” thought Claudia to herself.
“That little fellow up-stairs has something original about him. I have rather taken a fancy to him,” said Lady Mildred.
“Yes,” Claudia responded warmly; “I think he’s a dear little fellow.”
“But he can’t be the eldest son; there must be one nearly grown-up, I fancy,” said Lady Mildred, with a little sigh.
Claudia looked up. What was Lady Mildred thinking of? What could it matter to her, or to any one, or to themselves even, whether Gervais was eldest or youngest of the Waldrons? A country lawyer’s family heirs to nothing.
“Aunt Mildred must be half asleep,” thought Claudia. “She might as well talk as if it mattered which of us was the eldest.”