Mrs. Erveng was not down,--I found afterward that she always took
her breakfast in her own room,--and Hilliard sat in his mother's place
and poured the tea. I was thankful that Mr. Erveng hadn't asked me to do
it; but it did look so _queer_ to see a boy doing such a thing,--so like
a "Miss Nancy," as Phil would say. Mr. Erveng and Hilliard talked a good
deal about things that were going on in the world, and about books, and
places they had been to. I was perfectly surprised at the way Mr. Erveng
asked Hilliard's opinion, and listened to his remarks,--I couldn't
imagine papa's doing such a thing with any of us, not even with Felix;
and when I said anything, they both acted as if it were really worth
listening to,--which is another thing that never happens in our family!
And yet, on the other hand, Mr. Erveng goes off to Boston in the
mornings without even saying good-bye to Mrs. Erveng or Hilliard,--they
never know by what train he is coming home; and in the whole month I
visited them I never once saw Hilliard and his mother kiss each other.
Now at home papa always tells some one of us when he is going out, and
about when he will return; and if we children go anywhere, the whole
family is sure to know of it; and quite often we kiss one another
good-bye, and always at night.
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