I would have felt better
if father had been at home, because he understands somwhat the way They
keep me down. But he was away about an order for shells (not sea; war),
and I was to bear my chiding alone. I had eaten my fruit and serial, and
was about to begin on sausage, when mother came in, having risen early
from her slumbers to take the decorations to the Hospital.
"So here you are, wreched child!" she said, giving me one of her coldest
looks. "Barbara, I wonder if you ever think whither you are tending."
I ate a sausage.
What, Dear Dairy, was there to say?
"To disobey!" she went on. "To force yourself on the atention of Mr.
Beresford, in a borowed dress, with your eyelashes blackend and your
face painted----"
"I should think, mother," I observed, "that if he wants to marry into
this family, and is not merely being dragged into it, that he ought to
see the worst at the start." She glired, without speaking. "You know," I
continued, "it would be a dreadfull thing to have the Ceramony performed
and everything to late to back out, and then have ME Sprung on him. It
wouldn't be honest, would it?"
"Barbara!" she said in a terrable tone. "First disobedience, and now
sarcasm. If your father was only here! I feel so alone and helpless."
Her tone cut me to the Heart. After all she was my own mother, or at
least maintained so, in spite of numerous questions enjendered by our
lack of resemblence, moral as well as physicle. But I did not offer
to embrase her, as she was at that moment poring out her tea.
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