“I’ll try to find that bottle of tonic you didn’t finish after whooping cough,” said his mother helplessly as she drew down the window.
“GOOD HEAVENS!” SAID MISS DEXTER. “DOES HE
KNOW YOU’VE COME TO ASK ME?”
“ROBERT’S DEEP IN LOVE WITH YOU,” SAID WILLIAM,
“HE’S WRITIN’ PO’TRY AN’ NOT SLEEPIN’ AN’ NOT EATIN’
AND CARVING YOUR INITIALS ALL OVER THE HOUSE.”
William stared around him disconsolately. It was hard to be full of self-sacrifices and service and to find no outlet for it ... nobody seemed to want his help. Then a brilliant idea occurred to him. He would do something for each of his family—something that would be a pleasant surprise when they found out....
He went up to his bedroom. There in a drawer was a poem that he had found in Robert’s blotter the week before. It began:
“O Marion
So young and fair
With silken hair....”