Ote himself to her during the afternoon,

[Nitschke M. <ke...@st...>]

Disappointed, too. As for our going to Del Monte, I never heard of a
Middleton yet that cut and ran at a time like this, and Elizabeth and I
ain't going to start any precedent." "No, my boy, we're going to stay
right here, and you're going to stay here with us. There's lots of good
times ahead for you and Elizabeth, and in the meantime, I want you to be
mighty sweet to that mother of yours. She's the only mother you've got,
boy. You don't know what it means for us old folks to be disappointed in
our children. Now, don't disappoint me, lad. You be nice to that mother
of yours, and keep on loving Elizabeth, and it will all come right, you
see if it don't. If it don't come one way, it will come another; you can
take my word for it." As if Dad knew anything about it. He thought then
that every woman possessed a sweet mind and a loving heart; he thinks so
now. But one glimpse of Blakely's mother was enough for me. She had a
heart of stone; everything about her was militant, uncompromising; her
eyes were of a piercing, steely blue; the gowns she wore were insolently
elegant; she radiated a superb self-satisfaction. When she looked at you
through her lorgnette, you felt as if you were on trial for your life.
When she ceased looking, you knew you were sentenced to mount the social
scaffold. If it hadn't been for Blakely and Dad, I should have died of
rage during the first two weeks of our stay in Santa Barbara. It was a
cruel position for me, and it didn't make it easier that before we had
been there three days the whole hotel was talking about it. Of course,
every woman in the hotel who had been snubbed by Blakely's mother
instantly took my part, and as there were only two women who hadn't been
snubbed by