Love at Second Sight

It had not occurred to him before that there would be any difficulty in getting one. He imagined a smart new boat all ready for him, with fresh, gay cushions, and everything complete and suitable to himself and his companion. He was rather irritated when he found instead that the best they could do for him was to give him a broken-down, battered-looking thing like an old chest, which was to be charged rather heavily for the time they meant to spend on the river. It looked far from safe, but it was all they could do. So they got in.

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An appalling crash, piercing shrieks, a loud, unequal quarrel on a staircase, the sharp bang of a door.... Edith started up from her restful corner on the blue sofa by the fire, where she had been thinking about her guest, and rushed to the door. 'Archie - chie! Come here directly! What's that noise?' A boy of ten came calmly into the room. 'It wasn't me that made the noise,' he said, 'it was Madame Frabelle.' His mother looked at him. He was a handsome, fair boy with clear grey eyes that looked you straight in the face without telling you anything at all, long eyelashes that softened, but gave a sly humour to his glance, a round face, a very large forehead, and smooth straw-coloured hair. Already at this early age he had the expressionless reserve of the public school where he was to be sent, with something of the suave superiority of the university for which he was intended. Edith thought he inherited both of these traits from her.