You are the only--only people that ever did that."
Jim had not spoken. Mrs. Mayfield asked him why he was so silent. "A man
is sometimes most silent when he is afraid of saying too much," he
answered, looking down.
"Mysterious wisdom," she mused, and this gave Tom his opportunity.
"Well, that's what you like, Auntie. You never did care for anything you
could understand."
"I don't care for impertinence, sir," and Lou laughed at him: "There,
you got it that time."
"Ma'm, I have no desire to be mysterious," said Jim. "A hay stack in an
open field couldn't be plainer than my life up to now, but there comes a
time even in the most honest man's life when he feels that he must hide
something, and that something is the fact that he does feel."
"There, auntie," cried Tom, "he has given you enough mystery to last
you--fifteen minutes."
"Is it too warm in here?" Margaret inquired, getting up and going toward
the door. They told her that it was "very pleasant," and she looked
around at them as if in her opinion it was getting fairly warm but not
quite warm enough.
Pages:
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161