And she remembered him best
as a boy of ten--long before he went away to serve his apprenticeship in
some great engineering works in the North. She had seen so little of him
since, she had gone through so many years, that she had now to retrace
her steps very far back to recognize him plainly in the mist of time.
Sometimes it seemed that her daughter-in-law was talking of some strange
man.
Mrs. Rout junior was disappointed. "H'm. H'm." She turned the page. "How
provoking! He doesn't say what it is. Says I couldn't understand how
much there was in it. Fancy! What could it be so very clever? What a
wretched man not to tell us!"
She read on without further remark soberly, and at last sat looking
into the fire. The chief wrote just a word or two of the typhoon;
but something had moved him to express an increased longing for the
companionship of the jolly woman. "If it hadn't been that mother must be
looked after, I would send you your passage-money to-day. You could set
up a small house out here. I would have a chance to see you sometimes
then. We are not growing younger. . . ."
"He's well, mother," sighed Mrs. Rout, rousing herself.
"He always was a strong healthy boy," said the old woman, placidly.
But Mr.
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