the park.
How are you, alma mater?"

She did not answer him or make response of any sort to his greeting. She
walked up the steps and into the house with leaden feet. The smile had
died utterly from her face. She looked suddenly old.

He followed her with the utmost composure, and when she stopped proceeded
to divest her of her furs with the deftness of movement habitual to him.

Abruptly she spoke, in her voice a ring of something that was almost
ferocity. "What have you come back for anyway?"

He raised his eyebrows slightly without replying.

But Mrs. Errol was not to be so silenced. Her hands fastened with
determination upon the front of his coat. "You face me, Napoleon Errol,"
she said. "And answer me honestly. What have you come back for? Weren't
there enough women on the other side to keep you amused?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Women in plenty--amusement none. Moreover, I
didn't go to be amused. Where is Lucas?"

"Don't you go to Lucas till I've done with you," said Mrs. Errol. "You
come right along to my room first."

"What for?" He stood motionless, suffering her restraining hands, the
beginning of a smile about his lips.

"There's something I've got to tell you," she said.

"Lead the way then, alma mater!" he said. "I am very much at your
service."

Mrs. Errol turned without further words, and he, with her sables
flung across his shoulder, prepared to follow. She moved up the
stairs as if she were very weary. The man behind her walked with the
elasticity of a cat.

But there was no lack of resolution about her when in her own room she
turned and faced him. There was rather something suggestive of a mother
animal at bay.

"Nap," she said, and her deep voice quivered, "if there's any right
feeling in you, if you are capable of a single spark of affection, of
gratitude, you'll turn around right now and go back to the place you
came from."

Nap deposited his burden on the back of a chair. His dark face was devoid
of the faintest shadow of expression. "That so?" he drawled. "I thought
you seemed mighty pleased to see me."

"Lock that door!" said Mrs. Errol. "Now come and sit here where you can
see my face and know whether I am telling the truth."

He smiled at that. "I don't require ocular evidence, alma mater. I have
always been able to read you with my eyes shut."

"I believe you have, Nap," she said, with a touch of wistfulness.

"It isn't your fault," he said, "that you weren't made s