But he only seized her little hand instead and pressed it fervently to his
lips. When he raised his eyes she was smiling, and her smile filled him
with happiness.
"You're such a boy!" she said softly, and turned and left him there in the
window recess alone again,--but this time he didn't care.
CHAPTER SEVEN - DEVELOPMENTS
It was during that drive the next morning that Jack buoyed up by memories
of Saturday and hopes of coming Saturdays, poured out the history of his
life at Mrs. Rosscott's knees. He told her the whole story of Aunt Mary,
and _his_ side of the cat, the cabman, and Kalamazoo. It interested her,
for she had arrived too recently to have had the full details in the
newspapers beforehand, but when he spoke of Aunt Mary's last letter she
grew large-eyed and shook her head gravely.
"You will have to be very good now," she said seriously.
"Why?" he asked. "Just to keep from being disinherited? That wouldn't be
so awful."
"Wouldn't it be awful to you?" she asked, turning her bright eyes upon
him. "What could be worse?"
"Things," he said very vaguely.
Then she touched up the cob a little; and, after a minute or two, as she
said nothing, he continued:
"I almost fancy quitting college and going to work. I was thinking about
it last night."
She touched up the cob a little more, and remained silent.
Finally he said:
"What would you think of my doing that?"
"I don't know," she said slowly. "You see, I'm a great philosopher.
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