“Well, I can’t help it. I can’t help it. I don’t mind. Honestly I don’t mind if she doesn’t like me. Well, I don’t mind if she doesn’t come again, either.”
“But, William, she’s your godmother.”
“Well,” said the goaded William. “I can’t help that. I didn’t do that.”
When Mrs. Adolphus Crane’s birthday came, William’s mother attacked him again.
“You ought to give her something, William, you know, especially after the way you treated her the last time she came over.”
“I’ve nothin’ to give her,” said William simply. “She can have that book Uncle George gave me, if she likes. Yes, she can have that.” He warmed to the subject. “You know. The one about Ancient Hist’ry. I don’t mind her having it a bit.”
“But you haven’t read it.”
“I don’t mind not readin’ it,” said William generously. “I—I’d like her to have it,” he went on.
But it was Mrs. Brown who had the great inspiration.
“We’ll have William’s photograph taken for her.”