mother, don't cry. Speak to me, speak to me."

She did not answer. He stepped forward quickly and lifted her face
between his hands, tenderly. He saw that her eyes were filled with
tears.

"Please," she said, drawing back her head. He dropped his arms to his
sides. "Please, I must be alone," she said.

"Tell me, tell me, what is it?" he begged.

Rising a trifle unsteadily to her feet she walked past him to the door.
He wheeled as she was about to step out of the room and caught her in
his arms.

"Mother, dearest," he pleaded, "what is it? Is it because you do not
approve? Is it so terrible that she must work to live and that she plays
in pictures? Surely, you can't think wrong of her?"

Slowly she nodded her head. He stepped back in amazement. How could she
possibly think such things?

"I had hoped, because she was a friend of yours, that she would be what
you thought her," Mrs. Gallant said, tremulously.

"Why, mother, what are you talking about?" he gasped. "She is my friend
and there is nothing to make me think that she is anything but what I
believed her to be, a dear, kind friend."

Mrs. Gallant clasped her hands at her waist and straightened her
shoulders.

"She dared--dared to receive you alone in her dressing room," she said.
"John, don't you understand what that means? Don't you know how wrong it
was? Do decent girls do such things? An actress! I've heard enough about
them. An actress who allows herself to be kissed and held in men's arms!
An associate of--"

He raised his hand quickly.

"Mother!" he expostulated, "you can't say that. You can't, you can't."

For a moment they stood facing each other and an expression of despair
crossed her features as she whirled around and left the room. John stood
stunned until he heard the door of her bedroom close. With a heavy sigh
he threw himself into a chair and bowed his head in his hands, staring
distractedly at the design in the rug under his feet.

Until far into the night he sat there, thinking, thinking, thinking.
Mingled exasperation and perplexity racked his brain and finally he
attempted to collect his thoughts and reason it all out. It was
ridiculous, he thought, and yet so serious. Gradually he came to study
the entire situation from the viewpoint of his mother and by doing so he
came to a solution of the difficulty. His heart softened toward her and
he found an excuse for her antipathy for Consuello.

Primarily, he understood his mother's