very long. Yet he spoke
gaily enough.

"And I made so sure I should win," he said. "I shall put it down to
unexpected losses, not connected with business; eh, Mr. Timmins? Or shall
it be charity? It would never do to put down 'Betting losses.'"

But this was plainly a little forced, and Morris waited till Mr. Timmins
had gone out.

"And you really meant that?" he asked. "You are really not anxious?"

"No, I am not anxious," he said, "but--but I shall be glad when he comes
back. Is that inconsistent? I think perhaps it is. Well, let us say then
that I am just a shade anxious. But I may add that I feel sure my anxiety
is quite unnecessary. That defines it for you."

Morris went straight home from here, and found that his mother had just
returned from her afternoon drive. She had found the blotting book
waiting for her when she came back that morning, and was delighted with
the gift and the loving remembering thought that inspired it.

"But you shouldn't spend your money on me, my darling," she said to
Morris, "though I just love the impulse that made you."

"Oh, very well," said Morris, kissing her, "let's have the initials
changed about then, and let it be M.A. from H.A."

Then his voice grew grave.

"Mother dear, I've got another birthday present for you. I think--I think
you will like it."

She saw at once that he was speaking of no tangible material gift.

"Yes, dear?" she said.

"Madge and me," said Morris. "Just that."

And Mrs. Assheton did like this second present, and though it made her
cry a little, her tears were the sweetest that can be shed.

* * * * *

Mother and son dined alone together, and since Morris had determined to
forget, to put out of his mind the hideous injury that Mills had
attempted to do him, he judged it to be more consistent with this resolve
to tell his mother nothing about it, since to mention it to another, even
to her, implied that he was not doing his best to bury what he determined
should be dead to him. As usual, they played backgammon together, and it
was not till Mrs. Assheton rose to go to bed that she remembered Mr.
Taynton's note, asking her and Morris to dine with him on their earliest
unoccupied day. This, as is the way in the country, happened to be the
next evening, and since the last post had already gone out, she asked
Morris if Martin might take the note round for her tonight, since it
ought to have been answered before.