"Is he so mischievous?" asked my mother, considerably shocked.
"No," replied the lady, sadly smiling, as she stroked the wavy locks of her son, who was seated on a low stool at her feet, "but he is my only treasure; and I am his only friend, so we don't like to be separated."
"But my dear, I call that doting," said my plain-spoken parent. "You should try to suppress such foolish fondness, as well to save your son from ruin as yourself from ridicule."
"Ruin, Mrs. Markham?"
"Yes; it is spoiling the child. Even at his age, he ought not to be always tied to his mother's apron string; he should learn to be ashamed of it."
"Mrs. Markham, I beg you will not say such things in his presence, at least. I trust my son will never be ashamed to love his mother!" said Mrs. Graham, with a serious energy that startled the company.
My mother attempted to appease her by an
