"
"He must be a great care and anxiety to you," said the caller.
Archie shuddered at the words.
"Only a sweet care," said his mother. "I am always hoping he will
outgrow his delicate health."
Archie groaned. How horribly like a girl it was to be "delicate."
"I think," went on the caller, raspingly, "that a frail boy _is_ a care.
One depends so on one's sons to be a strength to one in old age; to help
in their father's business, and things like that--unless, of course, one
has _money_."
The harsh voice ceased, and Archie felt in his soul that the speaker was
glancing meaningly about the bare little parlor of his father's house.
He could have hugged his mother as he heard her say: "Oh, well, Trig
and Dudley will help their father; and none of us grudge Archie his
inability to help, or his music lessons either."
"I should think his violin and his books and lessons would be a great
expense to you," proceeded the caller.
"Nothing is an expense that fills his life and helps him to forget he
is shut away from the other boys and their jolly sports, just because
he is not strong enough to participate in them," replied his mother,
with a slight chill in her voice at her visitor's impertinence.
Pages:
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233