"Tell me what _you_ think about it, Norah--quite candidly."
Norah had hesitated about replying; but she now said that she really
thought Dale need not be in a hurry. Billy was so clever that when he
did get to school he would learn faster than other boys; and she added
that his departure from home would be "a dreadful wrinch for Mrs.
Dale."
"But it will be a wrench for her whenever it happens. In life one has
to prepare one's self for _wrenches_--That, I fancy, is the better way
of pronouncing the word. Yes, wrench after wrench, Norah--that's life;
until the last great wrench comes--and, well, that _isn't_ life....
Who was that passed the window?"
Norah turned her bright young face to the window and peered out.
"It's Mr. Bates, sir. How funny he looks!"
"What d'you mean--funny?"
"Walking so slow, and leaning on his great stick--as if he was a
pilgrim."
Dale had jumped off his stool; and he ran out to the road and begged
the old man to come in.
"Certainly, William," said Mr. Bates.
He had cut himself a long staff from some woodland holly-tree, a rough
prop that reached shoulder high, and on this he leaned heavily as soon
as he stopped walking. He looked very old and very shaky.
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