"You will wear out even her doting affection if you keep on," replied his mother almost sharply. It was difficult to imagine her speaking with real sharpness. She regretted it instantly. "My dear little son, why won't you do differently? Why do you prefer to make the boys all dislike you? It's for your own good that I have talked to you, and I haven't said so very much. You don't please Uncle John, Charlie. You would be so much happier if you would only do as Sally does and—"
"Huh!" said Charlie, throwing down the towel. "Cousin Patty wants me, mother." And he bolted out of the door.
Tears came to Mrs. Ladue's eyes. Her eyes were still wet when Doctor Beatty came in. He could not help seeing.
"Not crying?" he asked. "That will never do."
Mrs. Ladue smiled. "I have been talking to Charlie," she said, as if that were a sufficient explanation.
Indeed, it seemed to be. That, in itself, was cause for grief. "Ah!" said the doctor. "Charlie didn't receive it with meekness, I judge."
She did not answer directly. "It seems hopeless," she returned at last. "I have been away from him so long that I am virtually a stranger. And Patty—" She did not finish.
Doctor Beatty laughed. "I know Patty. I think I may say that I know her very well. Why, there was one period—" He remembered in time and his tone changed. "Yes, there was one period when I thought I knew her very well. Ancient history," he went on with a wave of his hand,—"ancient history."
Mrs. Ladue said nothing, but she looked sympathetic and she smiled. Doctor Beatty sat down conveniently near her, but yet far enough away to be able to watch her closely.
Meanwhile the doctor talked. It was of little consequence what he talked about, and he rambled along from one subject to another, talking of anything that came into his head; of anything but Mrs. Ladue's health. And the strange thing about it was that she had no inkling as to what the doctor was about. She had no idea that she was under observation. She only thought it queer that he had so much time to devote to talking to her. He couldn't be very busy; but she liked it and would have been sorry to have him give up his visits.