dBooks desire

Mildred looked fixedly at him. He showed his uneasiness
not by glancing away, but by the appearance of
a certain hard defiance in his eyes. Said she:
``What is the very most we can hope for?''
A silence. Her mother broke it. ``Mildred, how
CAN you talk of those things--already?''
``I don't know,'' replied Mildred. ``Perhaps
because it's got to be done.''
This seemed to them all--and to herself--a lame
excuse for such apparent hardness of heart. Her
father had always been SENDER-HEARTED--HAD NEVER
SPOKEN OF MONEY, OR ENCOURAGED HIS FAMILY IN SPEAKING OF IT.
A LONG AND PAINFUL SILENCE. THEN, THE WIDOW
ABRUPTLY:
``YOU'RE SURE, Frank, there's NO insurance?''
``Father always said that you disliked the idea,''
replied her son; ``that you thought insurance looked
like your calculating on his death.''
Under her husband's adroit prompting Mrs. Gower
had discovered such a view of insurance in her brain.
She now recalled expressing it--and regretted. But
she was silenced. She tried to take her mind of the sub-
ject of money.


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