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George moved forward until, hidden by a bush, he was almost under the balcony. He could catch the murmur of their voices. But not a word that they said was intelligible. They were talking of Mary. Her introduction to her husband's friends had been an ordeal for Bob Flippin's daughter.
For thirty years this plain man and this plain woman had kept alive the spiritual flame on the household altar. No wonder that peace was under this roof and serenity. Madge, as she lay there holding Mrs. Flippin's hand, looked very young, almost like a little girl. Her hair was parted and the burnished braids lay heavy on her lovely neck. Her thin fine gown left her arms bare. "Mrs.
Flippin severely, "I wouldn't let you have your way " "I love to have my own way, Mrs. Flippin. And I am not your Mary" then fearing that she had hurt the kind heart, she caught Mrs. Flippin's hand in her own and kissed it, "but I wish I were. You're such a lovely mother." Mrs. Flippin smiled at her. "I'm as near like your mother as a hen is mother to a bluebird."
She hastened to redeem herself from any possible charge of bloodthirstiness. "I don't mean," she said, "that it isn't awful for a man to lose his leg. But men who go through a thing like that and come out conquerors are rather wonderful, Mrs. Flippin." Madge had hold of Mrs. Flippin's hand. She often held it in this quiet hour, and the idea rather amused her.
Flippin's father, and for fifty years had held the place by the east window in summer and by the fireplace in winter. Oscar had wanted to bring things from Hamilton Hill to make Madge comfortable. But she had refused to spoil the simplicity of the quiet old house. "Everything that is here belongs here, Oscar," she had told him, "and I like it."
"Keep them," said Mary serenely; "the car is for Mother she's going to drive it herself." The Judge, with a vision of Mollie Flippin's middle-aged plumpness upon him, exclaimed: "You don't mean that your mother is going to drive a car?" "Yes," said Mary, "she is." "I would as soon think of Claudia " "No," said Mary, "Mrs. Beaufort will never drive her own car.
She was not demonstrative, and it seemed inconceivable that she should care to hold Mrs. Flippin's hand. But there was a motherliness about Mrs. Flippin, a quality with which Madge had never before come closely in contact. "It is like the way I used to feel when I was a little girl and said my prayers at night," she told herself. Madge did not say her prayers now. Nobody did, apparently.
She hastened to redeem herself from any possible charge of bloodthirstiness. "I don't mean," she said, "that it isn't awful for a man to lose his leg. But men who go through a thing like that and come out conquerors are rather wonderful, Mrs. Flippin." Madge had hold of Mrs. Flippin's hand. She often held it in this quiet hour, and the idea rather amused her.
"Keep them," said Mary serenely; "the car is for Mother she's going to drive it herself." The Judge, with a vision of Mollie Flippin's middle-aged plumpness upon him, exclaimed: "You don't mean that your mother is going to drive a car?" "Yes," said Mary, "she is." "I would as soon think of Claudia " "No," said Mary, "Mrs. Beaufort will never drive her own car.
Dalton," said the Judge, "saying they were going. It was rather sudden, and he was sorry. Nice fellow. He liked to come over and look at my birds." Bob Flippin's eyes twinkled. "I reckon he liked to look at a pretty girl " The Judge stared at him. "At Becky?" Flippin nodded. "Didn't you know it?" "Bless my soul." The Judge was unquestionably startled. "But I don't know anything about him.
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