"He
must have picked up one."
"Beans, indeed!" Ellen replied, scornfully. "Do you mean to tell me
that a bean would work all this mischief in the child?"
"I happen to know that it would."
"Comes of picking up things in the street!" Ellen exclaimed. "I'll give
it him when I get back, I will!"
"You must forgive me," Burton said, "but I really don't see what you
have to complain about. From what you tell me, I should consider the
boy very much improved."
"Improved!" Ellen repeated. "An unnatural little impudent scallywag of
a child! You don't think I want a schoolmaster in knickerbockers about
the place all the time? Found fault with my clothes yesterday, hid some
of the ornaments in the parlor, and I caught him doing a sketch of a
woman the other day with not a shred of clothes on. Said it was a copy
of some statue in the library. It may be your idea of how a boy nine
years old should go on, but it isn't mine, and that's straight."
Burton sighed.
"My dear Ellen," he said, "we do not look at this matter from the same
point of view, but fortunately as you will say, unfortunately from my
point of view, the change in Alfred is not likely to prove lasting. You
will find in another few weeks that he will be himself again.
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