"I was waiting for you--alone--and
you were thinking only of her! Chester, answer me--do you love
her?"
The blood rolled rapidly over the boy's face. He muttered
something and tried to pass on, but she caught him again. He
forced himself to speak gently.
"What if I do, mother?" It wouldn't be such a dreadful thing,
would it?"
"And me? And me?" cried Thyra. "What am I to you, then?"
"You are my mother. I wouldn't love you any the less because I
cared for another, too."
"I won't have you love another," she cried. "I want all your
love--all! What's that baby-face to you, compared to your
mother? I have the best right to you. I won't give you up."
Chester realized that there was no arguing with such a mood. He
walked on, resolved to set the matter aside until she might be
more reasonable. But Thyra would not have it so. She followed
on after him, under the alders that crowded over the lane.
"Promise me that you'll not go there again," she entreated.
"Promise me that you'll give her up."
"I can't promise such a thing," he cried angrily.
His anger hurt her worse than a blow, but she did not flinch.
"You're not engaged to her?" she cried out.
"Now, mother, be quiet. All the settlement will hear you. Why
do you object to Damaris? You don't know how sweet she is. When
you know her--"
"I will never know her!" cried Thyra furiously. "And she shall
not have you! She shall not, Chester!"
He made no answer.
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