It is a common fault with children."
"I know it is," I answered. "I did not want a child with common
faults. I wanted something all my own. I wanted you, Robina, to be
my ideal daughter. I had a girl in my mind that I am sure would have
been charming. You are not a bit like her. I don't say she was
perfect, she had her failings, but they were such delightful
failings--much better than yours, Robina. She had a temper--a woman
without a temper is insipid; but it was that kind of temper that made
you love her all the more. Yours doesn't, Robina. I wish you had
not been in such a hurry, and had left me to arrange your temper for
you. We should all of us have preferred mine. It had all the
attractions of temper without the drawbacks of the ordinary temper."
"Couldn't use it up, I suppose, for yourself, Pa?" suggested Robina.
"It was a lady's temper," I explained. "Besides," as I asked her,
"what is wrong with the one I have?"
"Nothing," answered Robina. Yet her tone conveyed doubt. "It seems
to me sometimes that an older temper would suit you better, that was
all."
"You have hinted as much before, Robina," I remarked, "not only with
reference to my temper, but with reference to things generally. One
would think that you were dissatisfied with me because I am too
young."
"Not in years perhaps," replied Robina, "but--well, you know what I
mean. One wants one's father to be always great and dignified.
Pages:
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149