Mother by Kathleen Thompson Norris
page 34 of 114 (29%)
page 34 of 114 (29%)
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she would "vithet Mark thome day"; and the baby, tugging at his
mother's elbow, asked sympathetically if Mark was naughty, and was caught between his sister's and his mother's arms and kissed by them both. Mr. Paget, picking his paper from the floor beside his chair, took an arm-chair by the fire, stirred the coals noisily, and while cleaning his glasses, observed rather huskily that the little girl always knew, she could come back again if anything went wrong. "But suppose I don't suit?" suggested Margaret, sitting back on her heels, refreshed by tears, and with her arms laid across her mother's lap. "Oh, you'll suit," said Julie, confidently; and Mrs. Paget smoothed the girl's hair back and said affectionately, "I don't think she'll find many girls like you for the asking, Mark!" "Reading English with the two little girls," said Margaret, dreamily, "and answering notes and invitations. And keeping books--" "You can do that anyway," said her father, over his paper. "And dinner lists, you know, Mother--doesn't it sound like an English story!" Margaret stopped in the middle of an ecstatic wriggle. "Mother, will you pray I succeed?" she said solemnly. "Just be your own dear simple self, Mark," her mother advised. "January!" she added, with a great sigh. "It's the first break, isn't it, Dad? Think of trying to get along without our Mark!" "January!" Julie was instantly alert. "Why, but you'll need all sorts |
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