At such times Mrs. Allan would say, "Eddie, what are you thinking
about?" And brought back to her world with a jolt, the boy would answer
quickly (somewhat guiltily it seemed to Mr. Allan--noting the startled
expression),

"Nothing." It was his first lie, and a very little one, but one that was
often repeated; for he that would guard a secret must be used to
practice deception.

Mr. Allan would say, "Wake up, wake up, child! Only the idle sit and
stare at nothing and think of nothing. You'll be growing up an idle,
trifling boy if you give way to such a habit."

Between the Allans and Edgar the Dreamer a great gulf lay--for how
should a dreamer of day-dreams reveal himself to any not of his own
tribe and kind? Upon Edgar Goodfellow Mrs. Allan doted. All of her
friends agreed with her that so remarkable a child--one so precocious
and still so attractive--had never been seen, and Mr. Allan was
secretly, as proud of his wrestling, running, riding and other out-door
triumphs as his wife was of his pretty parlor accomplishments. Their
friends agreed too, that she made him the best of mothers, barring the
fact (for which weakness she was excusable--he was such a love!) that
she spoiled him, and perhaps permitted him to rule her too absolutely.
Was he grateful? Oh, well, that would come in time. Appreciation was not
a quality to be expected in children, and what more natural than that
the boy should accept as a matter of course the good things which she
made plain it was her chief pleasure in life to shower upon him? She was
indeed, as good a mother as it was possible for a mother without a
highly developed imagination to be.