Alpha Book

Corona was seated near the fire in her favourite boudoir, with a book in
her hand, and Orsino stood warming himself on one side of the
chimney-piece, staring into the flames and occasionally glancing at his
mother's calm, dark face. He was debating whether he should stay at home
or not.
Corona became conscious that he looked at her from time to time and
dropped her novel upon her knee.
"Are you going out, Orsino?" she asked.
"I hardly know," he answered. "There is nothing particular to do, and it
is too late for the theatre."
"Then stay with me. Let us talk." She looked at him affectionately and
pointed to a low chair near her.
He drew it up until he could see her face as she spoke, and then sat
down.
"What shall we talk about, mother?" he asked, with a smile.
"About yourself, if you like, my dear. That is, if you have anything
that you know I would like to hear. I am not curious, am I, Orsino? I
never ask you questions about yourself."
"No, indeed. You never tease me with questions--nor does my father
either, for that matter.


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