You have the
girls."
Mr. Bullsom nodded.
"Yes," he said, "I have the girls. Look here, Mary," he added,
suddenly, looking her in the face, "I want to have a word with you. I'm
going to talk plainly. Be honest with me."
"Of course," she murmured.
"It's about the girls. It's a hard thing to say, but somehow--I'm a bit
disappointed with them."
She looked at him in something like amazement.
"Yes, disappointed," he continued. "That's the word. I'm an uneducated
man myself--any fool can see that--but I did all I could to have them
girls different. They've been to the best school in Medchester, and
they've been abroad. They've had masters in most everything, and I've
had 'em taught riding and driving, and all that sort of thing, properly.
Then as they grew up I built this 'ouse, and came up to live here
amongst the people whom I reckoned my girls'd be sure to get to know.
And the whole thing's a damned failure, Mary. That's the long and short
of it."
"Perhaps--a little later on" Mary began, hesitatingly.
"Don't interrupt me," he said, brusquely. "This is the first honest
talk I've ever had about it, and it's doing me good.
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