My mother was puzzled when I asked her to go to the funeral.
“You’ll lose a day at the seminary …”
I reminded her of the friendship Manduca felt for me, and they were such poor people … I used every argument that came to mind. Cousin Justina gave her opinion in the negative.
“You think he ought not to go?” asked my mother.
“I don’t think so. What’s this great friendship? I never saw any signs of it.”
Cousin Justina won. When I told the dependent, he smiled, and told me that her hidden motive was probably that she thought I should not give the funeral “the lustre of my presence.” However that may be, I was annoyed; the next day, thinking of the motive, I was not so put out, later on, I took a certain pleasure in it.