“I wanted to see Mr. Whitelock,” she said, without heeding Matty’s observation. “I wanted to speak a few words to him.” Matty loved a gossip. She never suspected the fair, frail, trembling woman, “going blind,” to be Richard’s mother. He never mentioned his mother’s blindness; he could not speak of it; he hoped it would never be worse than it was. She could still read; and do plain work; and so Matty heard not of it. She had nothing particular to do that evening, and the sight of a stranger did her good, because she expected a gossip. “Master can’t always be interrupted,” she replied, “particularly by them he doesn’t know; but if you will tell me your name and business, I’ll see what can be done for you.” “I am Richard’s mother.” “Think of that now. We do our best with him, poor boy—but he’s an unruly member!” “Richard!” exclaimed the poor woman, in a tone of dismay. “Ay, indeed; that is, he’s not so jist at the prisent time, but he’ll become so, like all the rest of them boys, one of these days.” “God forbid!” ejaculated the widow. “Amin!” said Matty; “but he’ll be sure to come to it at last.” “Come to what?” inquired the alarmed mother. “To all sorts and kinds of contrariness,” replied Matty, rapidly; “boys can’t help it, you see; it’s their nature; they’re not patient, bidable, gentle creatures like _us_—not they! Mischief, and all kinds of murther, and upsetting, and latch-keys, and fidgets, and police-courts, and going out at nights, and staying out all day (though that’s a good riddance) and boxing, and apple-stealing, falling in love, and kicking up _shindies_.” “I beg your pardon, but I do not understand you,” interrupted Mrs. Dolland, with more determination than she had exercised for years. She felt as if this strange, abrupt, half-mad woman was stringing together a set of accusations against her child. “I’m obleeged to you, ma’am, for the compliment,” said Matty, dropping a curtsey; “but, as that’s neither here nor there, what’s your business with the masther?” “That I can only tell himself,” she replied. “Well,” muttered Matty, “that beats—! But the women now have no modesty. Them English is all a silent set—no sociability in them. Tell himself!—as if it wasn’t more natural for a half-blind craythur like that to discoorse a woman than a man. Well, well! No wonder my hair’s gone gray and my heart hard!”