cceptable
thing of falling in love with each other. "That would be quite too
perfect!" thought Mrs. Salisbury, watching them together.

No; Owen was too rich to be overlooked by all sorts of other girls,
scrupulous and unscrupulous. Every time he went with his mother for a
week to Atlantic City or New York, Mrs. Salisbury writhed in
apprehension of the thousand lures that must be spread on all sides
about his lumbering feet. He was just the sweet, big, simple sort to be
trapped by some little empty-headed girl, some little marplot clever
enough to pretend an interest in the prison problem, or the free-milk
problem, or some other industrial problem in which Owen had seen fit to
interest himself. And her lovely, dignified Sandy, reflected the
mother, a match for him in every way, beautiful, good, clever, just the
woman to win him, by her own charm and the charms of children and home,
away from the somewhat unnatural interests with which he had surrounded
himself, must sit silent and watch him throw himself away.

Sandy, of course, had never had any idea of Owen in this light, of that
her mother was quite sure. Sandy treated him as she did her own
brothers, frankly, despotically, delightfully. And perhaps it was
wiser, after all, not to give the child a hint, for it was evident that
the shy, gentle Owen was absolutely at home and happy in the Salisbury
home; nothing would be gained by making Sandy feel self-conscious and
responsible now.

Mrs. Salisbury really did not like Owen Sargent very well, although his
money made her honestly think she did. He had a wide, pleasant, but
homely face, and an aureole of upstanding yellow hair, and a manner as
unaffected as might have been expected from the child of his plain old
genial father, and his mother, the daughter of a tanner. He lived
alone, with his widowed mother, in a pleasant, old-fashioned house, set
in park-like grounds that were the pride of River Falls. His mother
often asked waitresses' unions and fresh-air homes to make use of these
grounds for picnics, but Mrs. Salisbury knew that the house belonged to
Owen, and she liked to dream of a day when Sandy's babies should tumble
on those smooth lawns, and Sandy, erect and beautifully furred, should
bring her own smart little motor car through that tall iron gateway.

These dreams made her almost effusive in her manner to Owen, and Owen,
who was no fool, understood perfectly what she was thinking of him; he
understood h