too young. I am not going to have her getting married."
Surging up through Crispin came that almost overwhelming impulse to shout, "She's mine," but he restrained himself. "Of course, I'm in love with her," he said, "but I'm not going to run away with her—yet."
"Perhaps she doesn't want to run away with you. Do you, Hildegarde?"
She hedged. "I don't want anything, just now, but to have you get some rest. If you'll lie down in the library, I'll read to you."
"Have you had your breakfast?"
"No."
"Run along and eat it. I'll wait for you by the fire. Don't keep her too long, Harlowe."
Sampson, in the dining-room, welcomed the two young people with a Christmas salutation. Then he voiced a complaint.
"Nobody comin' down to brek'fus. 'Taint much like the ol'-time Christmas. In dem days eve'body was up an' shouting w'en the day break. But now they dances all night and fergits that the good Lord was bo'n in Bethehum."
He set their grape-fruit before them and went out for the sausages and waffles, and Hildegarde, with a little flame in her cheeks, said to Crispin:
"You didn't mind what father said, did you?"
"I minded it when he scolded you."
"He didn't mean it. He is so unhappy."
"And because he is unhappy you'll forgive him.
