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He
was
coming
to
her
reference
to
Cowperwood
,
but
he
had
n't
reached
that
when
Mrs.
Butler
interfered
.
She
was
a
stout
,
broad-faced
woman
,
smiling-mouthed
most
of
the
time
,
with
blurry
,
gray
Irish
eyes
,
and
a
touch
of
red
in
her
hair
,
now
modified
by
grayness
.
Her
cheek
,
below
the
mouth
,
on
the
left
side
,
was
sharply
accented
by
a
large
wen
.
"
Children
!
children
!
"
(
Mr.
Butler
,
for
all
his
commercial
and
political
responsibility
,
was
as
much
a
child
to
her
as
any
.
)
"
Youse
must
n't
quarrel
now
.
Come
now
.
Give
your
father
the
tomatoes
.
"
There
was
an
Irish
maid
serving
at
table
;
but
plates
were
passed
from
one
to
the
other
just
the
same
.
A
heavily
ornamented
chandelier
,
holding
sixteen
imitation
candles
in
white
porcelain
,
hung
low
over
the
table
and
was
brightly
lighted
,
another
offense
to
Aileen
.
"
Mama
,
how
often
have
I
told
you
not
to
say
'
youse
'
?
"
pleaded
Norah
,
very
much
disheartened
by
her
mother
's
grammatical
errors
.
"
You
know
you
said
you
would
n't
.
"
"
And
who
's
to
tell
your
mother
what
she
should
say
?
"
called
Butler
,
more
incensed
than
ever
at
this
sudden
and
unwarranted
rebellion
and
assault
.
"
Your
mother
talked
before
ever
you
was
born
,
I
'd
have
you
know
.
If
it
were
n't
for
her
workin
'
and
slavin
'
you
would
n't
have
any
fine
manners
to
be
paradin
'
before
her
.
I
'd
have
you
know
that
.
She
's
a
better
woman
nor
any
you
'll
be
runnin
'
with
this
day
,
you
little
baggage
,
you
!
"
"
Mama
,
do
you
hear
what
he
's
calling
me
?
"
complained
Norah
,
hugging
close
to
her
mother
's
arm
and
pretending
fear
and
dissatisfaction
.
"
Eddie
!
Eddie
!
"
cautioned
Mrs.
Butler
,
pleading
with
her
husband
.
"
You
know
he
do
n't
mean
that
,
Norah
,
dear
.
Do
n't
you
know
he
do
n't
?
"
She
was
stroking
her
baby
's
head
.
The
reference
to
her
grammar
had
not
touched
her
at
all
.
Butler
was
sorry
that
he
had
called
his
youngest
a
baggage
;
but
these
children
--
God
bless
his
soul
--
were
a
great
annoyance
.
