Mrs. Ford performed another decapitation of her thread.
"Well, I'm glad Lizzie has one friend in the world," said Jack.
"Her best friend," said Mrs. Ford, "is the one who flatters her least. I see it all, John. Her pretty face has done the business."
The young man flushed impatiently.
"Mother," said he, "you are very much mistaken. I'm not a boy nor a fool. You trust me in a great many things; why not trust me in this?"
"My dear son, you are throwing yourself away. You deserve for your companion in life a higher character than that girl."
I think Mrs. Ford, who had been an excellent mother, would have liked to give her son a wife fashioned on her own model.
"Oh, come, mother," said he, "that's twaddle. I should be thankful, if I were half as good as Lizzie."
"It's the truth, John, and your conduct—not only the step you've taken, but your talk about it—is a great disappointment to me. If I have cherished any wish of late, it is that my darling boy should get a wife worthy of him. The household governed by Elizabeth Crowe is not the home I should desire for any one I love."
"It's one to which you should always be welcome, Ma'am," said Jack.