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When the hall was empty Oliver kissed his father good…night； and； slipping his arm around his mother's waist； as he had always done when a boy； the two went slowly upstairs to his little room。 He could not wait a minute longer。 He must unburden his heart about Margaret。 This was what he had come for。 If his mother had only seen her it would be so much easier； be said to himself as he pushed open his bedroom door。
〃You are greatly improved； my son；〃 she said； with a tone of pride in her voice。 〃I see the change already。〃 She had lighted the candle and the two were seated on the bed； his arm still around her。
〃How； mother？〃
〃Oh； in everything。 The boy is gone out of you。 You are more reposeful； more self…reliant。 I like your modesty too。〃 She could tell him of his faults； she could also tell him of his virtues。
〃And the summer has done you good；〃 she continued。 〃I felt sure it would。 Mr。 Slade has been a steadfast friend of yours from the beginning。 Tell me now about your new friends。 This Miss Grant is she not the same girl you wrote me about； some mouths agothe one who drew with you at the art school？ Do you like her people？〃 This thought was uppermost in her mindhad been in fact ever since she first saw Margaret's name in his letters。
〃Her mother is lovely and she has got a brother a Dartmouth manwho is a fine fellow。 I liked him from the first moment I saw him；〃 Oliver answered simply； wondering how he would begin。
〃Is her father living？〃
〃Yes。〃
〃What kind of a man is he？〃
〃Wellof course； he is not like our people。 He is awellhe always says just what be thinks； you know。 But he is a man of character and position。〃 He was speaking for Margaret now。 〃They have more family portraits than we have。〃 This was said in a tone that was meant to carry weight。
〃And people of education？〃
〃Oh； I should certainly say so。 It is nothing but books all over the house。 Really； he has more books than Dad。〃 This statement was to strengthen the one regarding the family ancestorsboth telling arguments about Kennedy Square。
〃And this girlis she a lady？〃
The question somehow put to flight all his mental manoeuvres。 〃She is more than a lady； mother。 She is the dearest〃 He stopped； hesitated for an instant； and slipping his arm around his mother's neck drew her close to him。 Then； in a torrent of wordshis cheeks against hersthe whole story came out。 He was a boy again now； that quality in him that would last all his life。 She listened with her eyes on the floor； her heart torn with varying。 emotions。 She was disturbed； but not alarmed。 One phase of the situation stood out clearly in her practical mindhis poverty and the impossibility of any immediate marriage。 Before that obstacle could be removed she felt sure his natural vacillation regarding women would save him。 He would forget her as he had Sue。
〃And you say her brother works in the fields and that her father and mother permitted this girl to leave home and sit night after night with you young men with no other protection than that of a common Irishwoman？〃 There was a tone of censure now in her voice that roused a slight antagonism in Oliver。
〃Why not？ What could harm her？ There was no other place for her to go where she could learn anything。〃
Mrs。 Horn kept still for a moment； looking on the floor。 Oliver sat watching her face。
〃And your family； my son；〃 she protested with a certain patient disapproval in her tones。 〃Do they count for nothing？ I； of course； would love anybody you would make your wife； but you have others about you。 No man has a right to marry beneath him。 Do not be in a hurry over this matter。 Come home for your wife when you are ready to marry。 Give yourself time to compare this girl； who seems to have fascinated you； withSue； for instance； or any of the others you have been brought up with。〃
Oliver shrugged his shoulders at the mention of Sue's name。 He had compared her。
〃You would not talk this way； dearie； if you could see her；〃 he replied in a hopeless way as if the futility of making his mother understand was now becoming apparent to him。 〃She is different from anyone you ever metshe is so strong； so fine such a woman in all that the word means。 Not something you fondle and make love to； remember； but a woman more like a Madonna that you worship； or a Greek goddess that you might fear。 As to the family part of it； I am getting tired of it all； mother。 What good is Grandfather Horn or anybody else to me？ I have got to dig my way out just as they did。 Just as dear old Dad is doing。 If he succeeds in his work who will help him but himself？ There have been times when I used to love to remember him sitting by his reading…lamp or with his violin tucked under his chin； and I was proud to think he was my father。 Do you know what sets my blood on fire now？ It is when I think of him standing over his forge and blowing his bellows； his hands black with coal。 I understand many things； dearie； that I knew nothing about when I left home。 You used to tell me yourself that everybody had to work； and you sent me away to do it。 I looked upon it then as a degradation。 I see it differently now。 I have worked with all my might all summer； and I have brought back a whole lot of sketches that the boys like。 Now I am going to work again with Mr。 Slade。 I do not like his work； and I do love mine； but I am going to stick to his all the same。 I have got something to work for now；〃 and his face brightened。 〃I am going to win！〃
She did not interrupt him。 It was better he should unburden his heart。 She was satisfied with his record； if he went wrong she only was to blame。 But he was not going wrong； nor was there anything to worry aboutnot even his artnot so long as he kept his place with Mr。 Slade and only took it up as a relaxation from more weighty cares。 It was only the girl that caused her a moment's thought。
She saw too； through all his outburst； a certain independence and a fearlessness and a certain fixedness of purpose that sent an exultant thrill through her even when her heart was burdened with the thought of this new danger that threatened him。 She had sent him away for the fault of instability； and he had overcome it。 Should she not now hold fast； as she had before； and save him the second time from this girl who was beneath him in station and who would drag him down to her level； and so perhaps ruin him？
〃We will not talk any more about it to…night； my son；〃 she said； in tender tones； leaning forward and kissing him on the cheekit was through his affections that she controlled him。 〃You should be tired out with your day's journey and ought to rest。 Take my advicedo not ask her to be your wife yet。 Think about it a little and see some other women before you make up your mind。〃
A delicious tremor passed through Oliver。 He HAD asked her； and she HAD promised！ He remembered just the very day； the hour； the minute。 That was the bliss of it all！ But this he did not tell his mother。 He would not hurt her any further now。 Some other day he would tell her； when she could see Madge and judge for herself。 No； not to…night； and so with the secret untold he kissed her and led her to her room。
And yet strange to say it was the one only thing in all his life that he had kept from her。
Ah！ these mothers！ who make lovers of their only sons； dominating their lives！ How bitter must be the hours when they realize that another's arms are opening for them！
And these boyswhat misgivings come； what doubts。 How the old walls； impregnable from childhood； begin to crumble！ How little now the dear mother knowsshe so wise but a few moons since。 How this new love steps in front of the old love and claims every part of the boy as its very own。
Faithful to her promise； Miss Clendenning waited the next morning for Oliver in her little boudoir that opened out of the library。 A bright fire blazed and crackled； sending its beams dancing over the room and lighting up the red curtains that hung behind her writing…desk； its top covered with opened lettersher morning's mail： many bore foreign postmarks； and not a few were emblazoned with rampant crests sunk in little dabs of colored wax。 She wore a morning gown of soft white flannel belted in at the waist。 Covering her head and wound loosely about her throat was a fluff of transparent silk； half… concealing the two nests of little gray and brown knots impaled on hair…pins。 These were the chrysalides of those gay butterfly side…curls which framed her sweet face at night and to which she never gave wing until after luncheon； no matter who called。 The silk scarf that covered them this morning was in recognition of Oliver's sex。
She had finished her breakfast and was leaning forward in her rocking…chair； her elbows on her knees； her tiny feet resting on the fender。 She was watching the fire…fairies at work building up their wonderful palaces of molten gold studded with opals and rubies。 The little lady must have been in deep thought； for she did not know Oliver had entered until she felt his arm on her shoulder。
〃Ah； you dear fellow。 No； not there； sit right here on this cricket by my side。 Stop； do not say a word。 I have been studying it all out in these coals。 I know all about it