"Who should ask you, if not I?"
"There is no need to trouble you with it, mother."
"You can't help that — it will trouble me now, whether I know it or not; for I see it is something that troubles you."
"You have too good eyes, mother," he said smiling again, but a different smile.
"My ears are just as good."
"Mamma, I don't want to displease you," he said looking up.
"You can't do that — you never did yet, Winthrop, my boy," she answered, bending down again and this time her lips to his forehead. "Speak — I am not afraid."
He was silent a moment, and then mastering himself as it were with some difficulty, he said,
"Mamma, I want to be somebody!"
The colour flushed back and forth on his face, once and again, but beyond that, every feature kept its usual calm.