"Mrs. Lang must be calling on mamma," she said to herself; and pausing
near the half-open parlor door, she saw them sitting side by side on a
sofa, conversing in earnest, through subdued tones.
The call proved a long one. Evelyn waited with what patience she might,
vainly trying to interest herself in a book; her thoughts much too full
of her own near future to admit of her doing so.
At last Mrs. Lang took her departure, and Evelyn, following her mother
into her bedroom, gave a detailed account of her late interview with her
uncle.
"Mamma dear, you will go with us, will you not?" she concluded
persuasively.
"No, I shall not!" was the angry rejoinder. "Spend weeks and months in a
dull country place, with no more enlivening society than that of your
uncle and aunt? indeed, no! You will have to choose between them and me;
if you love them better than you do your own mother, elect, by all means,
to forsake me and go with them."
"Mamma," remonstrated poor Evelyn, tears of wounded feeling in her eyes,
"it is not a question of loving you or them best, but of obeying my
father's dying wish.
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