One might dream out life very pleasantly there,
she thought. The two men talked politics, but glanced constantly at the
stairs. She did not wonder that Starke's worn, yellow face should grow
so curiously bright at the sight of his boy; but her uncle did not care
for children,--unless, indeed, there was something in them. Jane came
down and put the boy on the floor.
"He has pulled all my hair down," she said, trying to look grave, to
hide the proud smile in her face.
Miss Defourchet had taken Richard up with an involuntary kiss, which he
resisted, looking her full in the face. There _was_ something in this
child.
"He won't kiss you, unless he likes you," said Starke, chafing his hands
delightedly.
"What do you think of that fellow, Mary?" said the Doctor, coming over.
"He's my young lion, Richard is. Look at this square forehead. You don't
believe in Phrenology, eh? Well, I do. Feel his jaws. Look at that lady,
Sir! Do you see the big, brave eyes of him?"
"His mouth is like his mother's," said Starke, jealously.
"Oh, yes, yes! So. You think that is the best part of his face, I know.
It is; as tender as a woman's.
Pages:
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190