Lanny broke in: “Oh, surely, Robbie, she isn't like that. She's so gentle and kind, she's like a saint.”
Robbie turned upon the mother. “You see! That snake in the grass, imposing upon the credulity of a child!”
He couldn't blame Lanny, of course. He controlled his anger, and explained that these people were subtle and posed as being idealists, when in their hearts were hatred and jealousy; they poisoned the minds of the young and impressionable.
Beauty began to cry, so the father talked more quietly. “I have always left Lanny's upbringing to you, and I have no fault to find with what you've done, but this is one thing on which I have to put down my foot. The black sheep of your family — or perhaps I had better say the red sheep of your family — is certainly not going to corrupt our son.”
“But, Robbie,” sobbed the mother, “I hadn't the least idea that Jesse was going to call.”
“All right,” said Robbie. “Write him a note and tell him it's not to happen again and Lanny is to be let alone.”
But that caused more weeping. “After all, he's my brother, Robbie. And he was kind to us; he was the only one who didn't raise a row.”
“I've no quarrel with him, Beauty. All I want is for him to keep away from our son.”
Beauty wiped her eyes and her nose; she knew that she looked ugly when she wept and she hated ugliness above all things. “Listen, Robbie, try to be reasonable. Jesse hasn't been here for half a year, and the last time he came Lanny didn't even know it. It will probably be as long before he'll be moved to come again. Can't we just tell Lanny not to have anything to do with him? I'm sure this child isn't interested in him.”
“No, really, Robbie!” The boy hastened to support his mother. “If I'd had any idea that you objected, I'd have made some excuse and gone away.”