— V —A VISITOR
Mr. Smithers had a little conversation with his landlady while she removed his breakfast things, in the course of which she gave utterance to some candid opinions on the subject of her son and daughter.
“Theodore – that’s my son’s name – is a very clever man. Sometimes I’m almost afraid that he’s too clever.”
“In what sense? How can a man be too clever?”
He knew very well, from personal experience. But he chose to ask.
“It doesn’t become me, his mother, to say anything; especially considering what a position he’s gained, and he’s done it all himself, for it’s little enough I’ve been able to do for him, and his father died when he was a little lad. I only hope he’ll get all that he thinks he will, and that it’ll bring him happiness.”
“I presume that he’s a shrewd man of
