"Yes, but, on the other hand, the boys were always being told, 'Give it to Ann; she's the girl.' You were utterly spoiled, and there's one thing, Ann, I must ask you. When I'm asking a blessing for tea, don't go on filling cups."
"But I don't," Ann said indignantly, "though what you want with a blessing for tea, I don't know. Nobody I ever heard of has a blessing for tea except Miss Barbara, and I generally had taken a large bite out of a scone before she began, and it lay on my plate and looked at me reproachfully. Poor Mr. Scott spoke right through your blessing to-day; he didn't know what you were doing."
Mrs. Douglas sighed deeply. "Ah, well, Ann, I don't suppose I'll be with you very long to worry you with my old-fashioned ways."
"Oh, Mother, that's not fair. You're hitting below the belt."
"But you may be away first," continued Mrs. Douglas, "and then I shall be left to regret."
"Well, then," said Ann flippantly, "we'll arrange that neither of us will regret anything. You and Mr. Scott made great friends, Mother. He has very nice manners, hasn't he?"
Mrs. Douglas laid down Hours of Silence, which she had taken up to begin her evening's reading, and removed the large spectacles which made her look like a little owl.
"I liked him, Ann. There is something very likeable about him. He reminded me just a little of Robbie."
"I wondered if that would strike you," Ann said. "It isn't that there is any resemblance, but he has some of Robbie's ways.... He was tremendously interested about your Life, Mother, so I gave him what I had written to look over. Oh, you needn't feel hurt about it. It's only that he may give me some advice. He writes himself, you know. As you say, it is nice to talk to a man again—one's own kind of man. Mr. Sharp is a dear, but it isn't much fun making conversation with him."
There was silence in the room as Mrs. Douglas began to read her evening portion out of each of her many volumes, and Ann sat watching the flames leap, and thinking, thinking.