The ideal
thing would be to be indifferent to it. That may come in time."
Marcella asked him nothing about herself. What the doctors had told him
she did not know: she was content to wait. All she wanted, now, was to
get home.
They stayed a week in London with Louis's people. It was pathetic to see
the mother's wistful anxiety and the father's open scepticism change to
confidence as the week went by.
"He's a changeling, my dear," said Mrs. Fame to Marcella when, in spite
of the old lady's wish to keep them in London, they told her they must
go North.
"Louis has always been a puzzle to me," said his father. "Even as a
little chap he did things I couldn't understand--selfish things,
crooked things--I don't understand what has happened to him."
"If I told you you would think General Booth had been getting at me,"
said Marcella. "But Louis will explain it all to you, some day."
From the slowly dawning pride on the father's face and the pathetic
hope of the mother Marcella guessed that Louis would not have to raise
his fees on the music-halls.
The winds were black and wintry already round the station at Carlossie
as the train drew in. Marcella had wired that she was coming, giving no
explanations. Andrew had been very fidgety. He was wearing his first
small suit and what he gained in dignity from knickers and three pockets
he lost in comfort.
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