Her father’s ideas of expostulation were a little harsh and forcible, and over the claret-colored table-cloth and under the gas chandelier, with his hat and umbrella between them like the mace in Parliament, he and his daughter contrived to have a violent quarrel. Your mother, for what it’s worth to you—for there’s nothing for you here, by God!—was the woman I chose for Nicholas. Then she put more coal on, piled it over the ashes, and stood once more upright. ” She said fretfully. " "I will try to do so," replied the widow, forcing a smile. "But you've given me what I don't possess.
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