Page:Pratt portraits - sketched in a New England suburb (IA prattportraitssk00full).pdf/181

 "Anson," she said, looking not at him, but at a hole in her napkin, which she seemed to have just discovered, "Anson, I've been thinking that I'd give you a new overcoat this winter, seeing as you don't care to buy one."

With that singular obtuseness where his mother was concerned, which had grown upon this good and conscientious man, he fancied that she only meant to shame him into doing as she wished, and he said, indifferently:

"I guess you'd better not, Mother. I may not need an overcoat after Thursday."

She was in the act of passing him his coffee, and her hand shook so that the saucer was quite flooded. Anson emptied the contents of the saucer back into the cup, suppressing his annoyance. He hated to have his coffee slopped, but he never found fault with his mother. He had the reputation of being a very considerate son.

They made up a bed for him in the little old sitting-room, where most of the evenings of his life had been spent. And his chief feeling, as he laid himself down upon the bed, was one of regret that he was not to be allowed to retain his consciousness, and be a witness to the skill of his young surgeon. He watched him with the greatest interest before the ether was administered. He liked the precision of the young man's movements, the clearness of his glance, the unobtrusive self-confidence of his manner. He heard Dr. Morse ask his mother to leave the room, and his