Romer asked, getting up to look at a
strange, shiny, abnormal-looking parrot on a twig that adorned the
mantelpiece.

"Do you like it?" she asked.

"It seems all right. Rather jolly."

"Oh! Well, it's funny you haven't noticed it before. Considering it's
been there all your life, and you used to play with it when you were
four, it's odd it's escaped your notice. You played with it when you
were four!" she repeated, growing rather heated.

"Did I though?"

"But things do escape your notice--that's just the point. I sometimes
wish I didn't see so much myself."

"So do I," he answered. "May I smoke, mother?"

"Of course you may, dear. You may do anything on earth you like. Have
some tea? _I_ never have anything but China tea, so it won't do you any
harm."

"I hate China tea," he answered reflectively, after what seemed to his
mother about half an hour's deep thought.

... "But what I always have said about Valentia is that though we all
admit, dear, that she has charming manners, is bright and amusing and
very sweet----"

He smiled.

"_Outwardly_, is there anything behind it all? Has she any depth?" She
quickly answered her own question, "_I_ think she has; a great deal. I
believe Valentia is extremely clever in her own way; she turns _you_
round her little finger. But that wouldn't matter so much--anything's
better than quarrelling and snapping and finding fault
continually--which is a thing I hate. But, really, there's one point I'm
quite anxious about--in fact, I often lie awake the whole night--the
entire night--and wake up in the morning utterly worn out through
thinking about it, Romer dear. There's nothing like a mother's
heart--and this does make me anxious, I own."

"What?"

"Why, that she should ever be talked about! That she should be
considered a flirt--and that sort of thing! I couldn't bear the idea of
my son's wife having her name coupled with that of any young man--or any
nonsense of that sort. It would be most painful to me. I'm sure I ask
every one who knows her if anything of that kind is ever said."

Romer threw away the cigarette and stood up.

"What infernal rot!" he said, with a heightened colour.

Her eyes brightened with pleasure. She was delighted to have irritated
him at last out of his calmness.

"Well, well, perhaps I'm a little over-anxious. It's all love, all
devotion to you, dear. Of course, people do talk. There's no doubt about
that; but good gracious! we all know t