Page:The Atlantic Monthly Volume 2.djvu/329

 s though her lips had never tasted any flavor more piquant than bread and butter.

It was rather an equivocal look which the mistress cast over her shoulder at the girl. It might have said,--"Poor fool! singe your wings in the candle, if you will." It might have been only the scorn of outraged virtue.

"Hugh," said Mrs. Kinloch, "come into the house a moment. I want to speak with you."

The young man looked up rather astonished, but he could not read his mother's placid face. Her hair lay smooth on her temples, under her neat cap; her face was almost waxy pale, her lips gently pressed together; and if her clear, gray eyes had beamed with a warm or more humid light, she might have served a painter as a model for a

"steadfast nun, devout and pure."

When they reached the sitting-room, Mrs. Kinloch began.

"Hugh, do you think of going to sea again? Now that I am alone in the world, don't you think you can make up your mind to stay at home?"

"I haven't thought much about it, mother. I suppose I should go when ordered, as a matter of course; I have nothing else to do."

"That need not be a reason. There is plenty to do without waiting for promotion in the navy till you are gray."

"Why, mother, you know I have no profession, and, I suppose I may say, no money. At least, the Squire made no provision for me that I know of, and I'm sure you cannot wish me to live on your 'thirds.'"

"My son, you should have some confidence in my advice, by this time. It doesn't require a great fortune to live comfortably here."

"Yes, but it is deused dull in this old town. No theatre,--no concert,--no music at all, but from organ-grinders,--no parties,--nothing, in fact, but prayer-meetings from one week's end to another. I should die of the blues here."

"Only find something to do, settle yourself into a pleasant home, and you'll forget your uneasiness."

"That's very well to say"

"And very easy to do. But it isn't the way to begin by flirting with every pretty, foolish girl you see. Oh, Hugh! you are all I have now to love. I shall grow old soon, and I want to lean upon you. Give up the navy; be advised by me."

Hugh whistled softly. He did not suppose that his mother knew of his gallantry. He was amused at her sharp observation.

"So you think I'm a flirt, mother?" said he. "You are out, entirely. I'm a pattern of propriety at home!"

"You need not tell me, Hugh! I know more than you think. But I didn't know that a son of mine could be so simple as I find you are."

"She's after me," thought Hugh. "She saw me, surely."

His mother went on.

"With such an opportunity as you have to get yourself a wifeDon't laugh! I want to see you married, for you will never sow your wild oats until you are. With such a chance as you have"

"Why, mother," broke in Hugh, "it isn't so bad as that."

"Isn't so bad? What do you mean?"

"Why, _you_ know what you're driving at, and so do I. Lucy is a good girl enough, but I never meant anything serious. There's no need of my marrying her."

"What _are_ you talking about?"

"Now, mother, what's the use? You are only trying to read me a moral lecture, because I gave Lucy a harmless smack."

"Lucy Ransom!" repeated Mrs. Kinloch, with ineffable scorn. "Lucy Ransom! I hope my son isn't low enough to dally with a housemaid, a scullion! If I _had_ seen such a spectacle, I should have kept my mouth shut for shame. 'A guilty conscience needs no accuser'; but I am sorry you had not pride enough to keep your disgusting fooleries to yourself."