"Am I to be a child for ever--I, that am so old, and have lost my boy ?" He thought there was something in her of the child that never grows up; the guilelessness, the charm, the ready tears and smiles, the quick changes of mood.
He rolled an elbow-chair forward, and put her into it tenderly.
"Say what you will," said John.
"This is comfortable," she said, leaning her head wearily on her hand; "to talk to a--a friend who understands, and who will not scold.
But you can't understand unless I tell you everything; and Timothy himself, after all, would be the first to explain to you that it isn't my tears nor my kisses, nor my consolation he wants.

You didn't think so _really_, did you ?" John hesitated, remembering Sir Timothy's words, but she did not wait for an answer.
"Yes," she said calmly, "he wishes me to be in my proper place.

It would be a scandal if I did such a remarkable thing as to leave home on any pretext at such a moment.

Only by being extraordinarily respectable and dignified can we live down the memory of his father's unconventional behaviour.

I must remember my position.