"
"Oh, madam, it's nothing, don't mention it, it's really nothing at all."
"But I say it's beautiful, and I stick to it!" cried the widow, with a
speaking moisture in her eye.
"A well brother to take the medicine for his poor sick brother--I wish I
had such a son," and she glanced reproachfully at her boys. "I declare
I'll never rest till I've shook you by the hand," and she scrambled out
of her chair in a fever of generous enthusiasm, and made for the twins,
blind with her tears, and began to shake. The boy Joe corrected her:
"You're shaking the wrong one, ma."
This flurried her, but she made a swift change and went on shaking.
"Got the wrong one again, ma," said the boy.
"Oh, shut up, can't you!" said the widow, embarrassed and irritated.
"Give me all your hands, I want to shake them all; for I know you are
both just as good as you can be."
It was a victorious thought, a master-stroke of diplomacy, though that
never occurred to her and she cared nothing for diplomacy. She shook the
four hands in turn cordially, and went back to her place in a state of
high and fine exultation that made her look young and handsome.
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