|
||||||
|
|
||||||
|
Book, page 51 / 152 "He has a depressing effect on her already. She is sure not to like him. She was crying when I came into the room after dinner." "Tears are not grief," I answered; "nor only the signs of grief, when they do indicate its presence. They are a relief to it as well. But I cannot help thinking there was some pleasure mingled with those tears, for he had been playing very delightfully. He must be a very gifted man." "I don't know anything about that. You know I have no ear for music.--That won't cure my child anyhow." "I don't know," I answered. "It may help." "Do you mean to say he thinks to cure her by playing the piano to her? If he thinks to come here and do that, he is mistaken." "You forget, Cathcart, that I have had no more conversation with him than yourself. But surely you have seen no reason to quarrel with him already." "No, no, my dear fellow. I do believe I am getting a crusty old curmudgeon. I can't bear to see Adela like this." "Well, I confess, I have hopes from the new doctor; but we will see what he says on Sunday." "Why should we not have called to-morrow?" "I can't answer that. I presume he wants time to think about the case." "And meantime he may break his neck over some gate that he can't or won't open." "Well, I should be sorry." "But what's to become of us then?" "Ah! you allow that? Then you do expect something of him?"
|
Knowledgerush Search
|
|
Contact Us
| Privacy Statement & Terms of Use
|