"If you are sorry I have no mother, why don't you ask Miss Mountford to be my mother?" he asked, when his father and he were alone. "Nobody is so nice as she is."
The captain's face flushed as he answered. "You do not know what you are talking about, Ralph. Miss Mountford is far too good to be your mother."
"I thought mothers never could be too good," he replied, in an injured tone.
"It is not that, Ralph. I could never think even Miss Mountford too good to be your mother, but she would be too good for me."
"As if she would want to be your mother!" persisted Ralph. "Why, you are ever so much older than she is. But I know what you mean. She would be a lot too good to come and live at Monk's How, for it isn't a very nice place now. It's awfully dull."
"Monk's How is very different from what it once was. I am sorry for you, more than for myself."
"Well, in a way, it is better than it was a while ago, for we never have any of those horrid men that used to come, and we needn't have them again, I suppose. People can't come unless you ask them. Jem Capes is gone, and I'm glad of it, for he used to say bad words. I used to think it was fine to talk like him and those gentlemen, too, who used to stay with us. But I know better now."
It caused John Torrance a pang to hear his boy's innocent words. Except faithful Sarah, Ralph had been surrounded by evil influences. For good ones he must thank his friends at the Hall. Ralph watched his father intently, then asked, "Are you sorry that Jem Capes is gone, and those men stay away? We might have nice people now instead."
"You cannot understand everything, Ralph; but I am glad to be rid of those men, and Capes too, though I miss some things."
"The horses. I know. I cried when your hunter went. He was a beauty. Maybe Miss Mountford will buy him. She said she would buy my Kelpie back if—"