In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. She breathed deeply of the starch of his shirt. She may address me as “Grandfather” if she chooses, since I’m obliged to accept her in that capacity. “After all, there are great things left in the world for you. But I've not promised to stand by him yet; nor will I, unless he turns out an honest lad,—mind that. She thought of the smiles she would gather when she brought forth his first grandson. Why was she noting things like this? Capes seemed selfpossessed and elaborately genial and commonplace, but she knew him to be nervous by a little occasional clumsiness, by the faintest shadow of vulgarity in the urgency of his hospitality.
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