Mother by Kathleen Thompson Norris
page 83 of 114 (72%)
page 83 of 114 (72%)
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time we'll send the boys off before dinner, and have things all nice
and quiet. In October, say, when the trees are so pretty. I don't know but what that's my favorite time of all the year!" Margaret looked at her as if she found something new in the tired, bright face. She could not understand why her mother--still too heated to commence eating her dinner--should radiate so definite an atmosphere of content, as she sat back a little breathless, after the flurry of serving. She herself felt injured and sore, not at the mere disappointment it caused her to put off John Tendon's visit, but because she felt more acutely than ever to-night the difference between his position and her own. "Something nice has happened, Mother?" she hazarded, entering with an effort into the older woman's mood. "Nothing special." Her mother's happy eyes ranged about the circle of young faces. "But it's so lovely to have you here, and to have Ju coming to-morrow," she said. "I just wish Daddy could build a house for each one of you, as you marry and settle down, right around our house in a circle, as they say people do sometimes in the Old World. I think then I'd have nothing in life to wish for!" "Oh, Mother--in Weston!" Margaret said hopelessly, but her mother did not catch it. "Not, Mark," she went on hastily and earnestly, "that I'm not more than grateful to God for all His goodness, as it is! I look at other women, and I wonder, I wonder--what I have done to be so blessed! Mark--" her face suddenly glowed, she leaned a little toward her |
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