Torrance did not speak, but pushed the child back, gently enough, but still in a manner that pained Kathleen deeply.
As she began, "Oh, John, do not push the darling from you in that way. What have I done? for it cannot be his fault if something has displeased you."
"Don't be absurd, Kathleen," he replied in an impatient tone. "When a man is worried about important things, he cannot be in the mood for admiring an infant prodigy, even though it happens to be his own."
He threw himself into a chair, and as Kathleen gazed at him in wonder, she was shocked at the expression on his face. She turned away, and rang for the nurse to take the child, then sat down, silent and indignant, as well she might be. Ever since her marriage she had fought hard against her naturally impetuous temperament, and had not been easily provoked. But the old quick nature¹ was still there, and at this moment ready to break into a flame again.
¹Unchanged by Divine grace
At first Kathleen resolved not to speak until John addressed her. Love for her husband was, however, stronger than temper, and at length she said—
"You tell me you are worried, John. Is there anything I can do for you?"
"You can let me alone," was the cold reply.
"But, John, surely I should know what troubles you. Are we not one?"
It had cost Kathleen an effort to speak gently, and she was ill-prepared for her husband's response.