f her mind. He would never return, or, at least, the
interval of his departure should have been severe enough to separate
him for ever from his father ...

In a moment's glance, in a clasp of the hand, in a flash of the eye,
she had seen that love leap up in her father's heart as strong as ever
it had been. Every day of Martin's residence in the house had added
fire to that love. She was a good woman; she struggled hard to beat
down her jealousy. She prayed. She lay for hours at night struggling
with her sins. If Martin had been worthy, if he had shown love in
return, but, from the bottom of her soul, as the days increased she
despised him--despised him for his light heart, his care of worldly
things, his utter lack of comprehension of their father, his scorn,
even now but badly concealed, of all the sanctities that she had in
reverence.

Therefore she drew near to her mother and the two of them watched and
waited ...

His mother was knitting. She lifted to him her pink wrinkled face and,
her spectacles balanced on the end of her nose, smiled the smile of the
dearest old lady in the world.

"Well, dear, and have you had a pleasant day?"

"All right, mother, thank you. Funny thing; met a man in the street,
hadn't seen for five years. Saw him last in Rio--Funny thing. Well, we
lunched together. Not a bad fellow--Seen a thing or two, he has."

Mrs. Warlock counted her stitches. "Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen ... How
nice for you, dear. What was his name?"

"Thompson ... I say," Martin suddenly raised his head as though he
heard something, "where's Amy?"

"Changing. She's been paying a call on the Miss Cardinals. Thought it
would be polite because of the new niece.--Six, seven, eight and nine..."

"What did she think of her?"

"Of whom, dear?"

"Of the niece."

"Oh, I don't think she liked her very much. She said that she was plain
and silent--and looked cross, Amy thought."

"Oh yes, Amy would." His face, as was his way when he was vexed,
flushed very slowly, the deeper red rising through the red-brown until,
ceasing in the middle of his forehead, it left a white line beneath his
hair. "She isn't cross a bit."

"I don't know, dear. It isn't my opinion. I only tell you what Amy
said. People here don't seem to like her. Mrs. Smith was telling me
yesterday that she's so difficult to talk to and seems to know nothing
about anything, poor girl."

"Mrs. Smith!" He swung his body on his hips indignantly. "A lot s