"I cannot consent to your going there, my dear," she said; "you must
know that both your father and myself disapprove of all such places."
"But I don't intend to play, mother; only to look on; the boys say the
tables are splendid; and besides, what could I tell Jim Ward after
promising to go with him? He is waiting outside for me. Please say 'yes'
only this once."
"Tell Jim that we rather you would remain at home; and ask him to walk
in and spend the evening," said Harry's father, as he looked up from the
paper.
"Oh, I know he'll not do that!" and Harry stood turning the door handle,
till, finding that his parents did not intend to say anything more, he
walked slowly to the front step.
"Why don't you hurry along," called Jim, "and not keep a fellow standing
all night in the cold?"
"I am not going. Won't you come in?" said Harry.
"Not going! Your mother surely doesn't object to your looking at a
billiard table!"
"She would prefer I should not go," said Harry, and Jim's only reply was
a significant whistle, as he walked off.
[Illustration: _"I wonder if my son feels too old for a story?"_]
"He'll be sure to tell all the boys!" said Harry, half aloud, as he shut
the front door with rather more force than was necessary.
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