Mr. Kinney remained only a few moments after George's departure; and
as the door closed upon him, the distressed Lucy turned to her father.
She was plaintively surprised to find him in a condition of immoderate
laughter.
"I didn't--I didn't think I could hold out!" he gasped, and, after
choking until tears came to his eyes, felt blindly for the chair from
which he had risen to wish Mr. Kinney an indistinct good-night. His
hand found the arm of the chair; he collapsed feebly, and sat uttering
incoherent sounds.
"Papa!"
"It brings things back so!" he managed to explain, "This very Fred
Kinney's father and young George's father, Wilbur Minafer, used to do
just such things when they were at that age--and, for that matter, so
did George Amberson and I, and all the rest of us!" And, in spite of
his exhaustion, he began to imitate: "Don't you try to put me in the
light of a boor!" "I shall take pleasure in calling at some time when
a more courteous sort of people--" He was unable to go on.
There is a mirth for every age, and Lucy failed to comprehend her
father's, but tolerated it a little ruefully.
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