"That isn't what we're talking about."

"I bet," said Georgie emphatically, "I bet if he wanted to see any of
'em, he'd haf to go around to the side door!"

"No, dear, they--"

"Yes, they would, mamma! So what does it matter if I did say somep'm' to
him he didn't like? That kind o' people, I don't see why you can't say
anything you want to, to 'em!"

"No, Georgie. And you haven't answered me whether you said that dreadful
thing he says you did."

"Well--" said Georgie. "Anyway, he said somep'm' to me that made me
mad." And upon this point he offered no further details; he would not
explain to his mother that what had made him "mad" was Mr. Smith's hasty
condemnation of herself: "Your mother ought to be ashamed," and, "A
woman that lets a bad boy like you--" Georgie did not even consider
excusing himself by quoting these insolences.

Isabel stroked his head. "They were terrible words for you to use, dear.
From his letter he doesn't seem a very tactful person, but--"

"He's just riffraff," said Georgie.

"You mustn't say so," his mother gently agreed "Where did you learn
those bad words he speaks of? Where did you hear any one use them?"

"Well, I've heard 'em several places. I guess Uncle George Amberson was
the first I ever heard say 'em. Uncle George Amberson said 'em to papa
once. Papa didn't like it, but Uncle George was just laughin' at papa,
an' then he said 'em while he was laughin'."

"That was wrong of him," she said, but almost instinctively he detected
the lack of conviction in her tone. It was Isabel's great failing that
whatever an Amberson did seemed right to her, especially if the Amberson
was either her brother George, or her son George. She knew that she
should be more severe with the latter now, but severity with him was
beyond her power; and the Reverend Malloch Smith had succeeded only
in rousing her resentment against himself. Georgie's symmetrical
face--altogether an Amberson face--had looked never more beautiful to
her. It always looked unusually beautiful when she tried to be severe
with him. "You must promise me," she said feebly, "never to use those
bad words again."

"I promise not to," he said promptly--and he whispered an immediate
codicil under his breath: "Unless I get mad at somebody!" This satisfied
a code according to which, in his own sincere belief, he never told
lies.

"That's a good boy," she said, and he ran out to the yard, his
punishment over. Some admiring friends