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Updated: May 5, 2025
He had small, bright, brown eyes, with little lines about them that seemed to suggest humor, but actually indicated that he buoyed up his life not by exaltation of himself, but by half-laughing depreciation of every one else. "I thought you'd be glad to know, Mrs. Farron," he said, "that any danger that may have existed is now over. Your husband " "That may have existed," cried Adelaide.
Miss Gregory smiled temperately. "Oh, next week is a long time off," she said, and left the room. Adelaide turned to her husband. "Do you enjoy being humored?" she asked. Farron had closed his eyes, and now opened them. "I beg your pardon," he said. "I didn't hear." "She knows quite well that you can't go down-town next week. She takes your message just to humor you."
Farron had suddenly detected a new burn in the hearth-rug. She bent over it. "This wood does snap so!" she murmured. The rug was a beautiful old Persian carpet of roses and urns. "Did you understand what I said, Mama?" "Yes, dear; that Mr. Wayne was going to China in two weeks and wanted you to go, too. Was it just a politesse, or does he actually imagine that you could?" "He thinks I can." Mrs.
I believe that that company is the most efficient for its size in this country, in the world, perhaps. And Farron is your stepfather! He must be a wonder." "Yes, I think he is." "You don't like him?" "I like him very much. I don't love him." "The poor devil!" "I don't believe he wants people to love him. It would bore him. No, that's not quite just.
Now, none of the accounts which Farron had received had made any mention of Mr. Lanley's part in the proceedings at all, and so he paused a moment, and in that pause Mr. Lanley went on: "It's a difficult position before a boy's mother. There isn't anything against him, of course. One's reasons for not wanting the marriage do sound a little snobbish when one says them right out.
Farron might be well enough to see me a moment about Marty. The truth is, Pete, Mr. Farron is the real person in that whole family." That evening he wrote Farron a note, asking him to see him the next morning at half-past ten about "this trouble of which, of course, Mrs. Farron has told you."
Farron seemed to be taking it all very calmly, greeting him, taking his chair as being a trifle more comfortable than the others, trying to cover the doubt in her own mind whether she ought to recognize him as an old acquaintance. Was he new or one of the ones she had seen a dozen times before? There was nothing exactly artificial in Mrs.
Self-knowledge for the moment was not on hand. He arrived at exactly the hour at which he always arrived, five minutes after eight, a moment not too early to embarrass the hostess and not too late to endanger the dinner. No one was in the drawing-room but Mathilde and Farron.
Mama loves people for reasons outside themselves: she loves me because I'm her child, and Grandpapa because he's her father, and Mr. Farron because she thinks he's strong. If she didn't think him strong, I'm not sure she'd love him. But I love you for being just as you are, because you are my choice. Whatever you do or say, that can't be changed "
He did not wonder long, though, for more interesting subjects of consideration were at hand. What reception would he meet at the Farrons? What arrangements would be made, what assumptions permitted? But even more immediate than this was the problem how could he contrive to greet Mrs. Farron? He was shocked to find how little he had been able to forgive her.
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