What he had
done, he had done for his son's sake, but he was none the less provoked
that Ethel had failed of appreciation and acknowledgment.

"Read _that_!" he said, and tossed the letter into Norma's lap. While
she was doing so, he broke the seal of the other letter which proved to
be a communication from a firm of solicitors in a small town in
Illinois, in whose hands Mrs. Thorne had placed her case. It was
delicately and ambiguously worded, as became the nature of the
business, and contained simply a courteous notification of their
client's intentions.

Norma had been prepared for Mrs. Thorne's letter by that of her friend
Mrs. Vincent; and perhaps also by a secret hope on which she had fed
for years--a hope that this _would_ happen. She read the letter
therefore without emotion, and returned it without comment.

"Well?" he queried impatiently.

"Well!" she echoed.

"What do you think of it?"

"I think that Mrs. Thorne wishes to marry again."

"No!--do you?" The tone was thoughtful; the interrogation delivered
slowly. The idea was a new one, and it put a different complexion upon
the matter, because of the child; there were still several years during
which the personal custody of the boy was the mother's of right. It
behooved him to look into this matter more closely.

"Yes, I'm sure of it," responded Norma; "it's town talk. See what Kate
Vincent says about it."

She handed him her letter folded down at this paragraph: "People have
been mildly excited, and the gossips' tongues set wagging by a rumor
which floated down from the Adirondacks last summer, and has been
gaining body and substance ever since. You remember how Cecil
Cumberland philandered after a certain lady of our acquaintance last
winter, and how unremitting were his attentions? Friendship, my dear!
Harmless friendship on a pure platonic platform; you understand--_honi
soit qui mal y pense_. Well this autumn the plot thickened; the
platonism became less apparent; the friendship more pronounced.
Nothing painfully noticeable--oh no; the lady is too clever--still, the
gossips began to take a contract, and work on it in slack seasons, and
latterly with diligence. It is openly predicted that madam will seek a
divorce, and then!--we shall see what we shall see. Cecil looks
radiantly worried and sulkily important. His family are ranged in a
solid phalanx of indignant opposition, which of course clinches the
matter firmly. Eva Cumberla