Hugh Wynne, Free Quaker

ers, I waited for an hour, and then went away. Returning later, I learned that he was still upstairs. I felt that if I stayed until he came forth, although he might not be in a way to tal

like a woman in certa

le, and for me at certain times and in certain crises a reassuring directness of swift dealing with matters in hand, most sustaining to o

her's, but a deeper blue. The friendship of young men has often for a partial basis admiration of physical force, and Hugh excelled me there

her for Madam Marie, as she had taught me to call her. She wore a caleche hood, fallen back so that I saw her hair, half tumbled from under t

e monte, I must go upstairs.' In excitement she was apt to talk French, and

e aside, and, with staring eyes, cried, 'Ou est l'escalier?'' As we went through the coffee-room, the loungers looked at her with surprise. She followed me

till hot and angry, but much sobered, I, her son, walked besid

u see me

thee! Thou art the rea

ne faut pas me donner ton baiser du soir. No, no; I am not to be kiss

, I do assure you the world seemed different. The water was very cold, but I cared nothing for that. I went home another and a better man, with hope and trust and self-repose for compa

t a quick, searching look, after which she nodded gaily, and said, "Est-ce que tout est bien, mon fils? Is all well with thee, my son?" I said, "Yes-yes.

and the ships, but lost no word, as, with a voice that broke now and then, she read the parable to its close. After this should have

. I knew she would come to me soon. It seemed to me a long while. I sat

her that she put some sugar into all her moods; and it was true. I have seen her angry. I had rather have faced my father in his wildest rage than her. Why was she not ang

had a good swim? was it cold f Why

head on her bosom, saying, with a little

it to so chance. I wonder where that prodigal's mother was all the while? Oh, you are better than that wicked, wicked prodigal. I never would have let him go at all-never if I could ha

a child again, I am sure that it was of all ways the best to t

e for dinner. I must go and get ready the fatted calf. Ah, I would not have left one

hing of my deep shame, and of the

ne hereafter." She would hear no more, only adding, "As for me, I want to be t

Somehow this plea, so childlike, to be praised f

on fils! I was proud of thee, even in that sty of pigs in red coats. And he behaved

her h

! No doubt we shall see him to-day, and thy f

" I said; "but I wi

but that is part

d lost an hundred pounds,

must take them and pay this debt. Go now to thy business as if nothing had happened, an

promises, and she asked for none. I like to think of h

sions. This was surely one of them. I do not now regret the knowledge of a baser world whic

was ready enough, and lacked not decision; but in this matter he was, as I could see, puzzled. He strode up and down, a gre

"and thou didst strike the man, thy cousin? Well, well!

work. For my life, I could not see whether he looked upon the blow

eft him, still striding to and fro, with ever the same odd movement of his hands. He took counsel, indeed, and for me and for him the most

one saw of my Aunt Gainor was her nose. It had been quite too much of a nose for the rest of her face, until gray hair and some change wrought by time in the architecture of

s, and half killed an unlucky cousin. Who the deuce is the man? A nice godchild you are! A proper rage I am in, and Dr. Rush tells me I am never to get excited! You should hear Mrs. Gal

"I wish all these Tory

ke into laughte

t dear Jesuit, your mother. How he blushes! I hear you behaved like a gentleman even in your cups. I like

, she broke out anew, declaring we were all mere traders, and did we think her a pawnbroker? and ended by giving me an hundred pounds

it; but none, not even my mother or Jack, knew how deep a mark i

f my life, which I have so unwillingly recorded. There wa

mall city knew it all. Friends looked at him as one disgraced, except Friend Rupert Forest, who, to my amusement, seemed to enjoy to hear the whole story, saying, 'Alas! alas!' and yet, as I saw, far more pleased than distressed. It brought to my mind the battle he had set us to fight out when we were boys. For a week or tw

as Hugh, because I lacked courage to be wicked. Hugh was no saint, but he drank no more f

ense. He was a better man than I, and