The needle and the cookbook are all that you need concern yourself with . '' I was accustomed to such speeches from him , but they had never hurt me so cruelly before . At that moment I would have given all the world only to be beautiful . The next Sunday I looked across the church , and in the Fraser pew I saw the young man I had met in the wood . He was looking at me with his arms folded over his breast and on his brow a little frown that seemed somehow indicative of pain and surprise . I felt a miserable sense of disappointment . If he were the Frasers ' guest I could not expect to meet him again . Father hated the Frasers , all the Shirleys hated them ; it was an old feud , bitter and lasting , that had been as much our inheritance for generations as land and money . The only thing Father had ever taken pains to teach me was detestation of the Frasers and all their works . I accepted this as I accepted all the other traditions of my race . I thought it did not matter much . The Frasers were not likely to come my way , and hatred was a good satisfying passion in the lack of all else . I think I rather took a pride in hating them as became my blood . I did not look at the Fraser pew again , but outside , under the elms , we met him , standing in the dappling light and shadow . He looked very handsome and a little sad . I could not help glancing back over my shoulder as Father and I walked to the gate , and I saw him looking after us with that little frown which again made me think something had hurt him . I liked better the smile he had worn in the beech wood , but I had an odd liking for the frown too , and I think I had a foolish longing to go back to him , put up my fingers and smooth it away . `` So Alan Fraser has come home , '' said my father . `` Alan Fraser ? '' I repeated , with a strange , horrible feeling of coldness and chill coming over me like a shadow on a bright day .
Alan Fraser , the son XXXXX old Malcolm Fraser of Glenellyn !
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