t ones sounded as if he were really getting
interested in that little nurse?" she demanded.

There was a peculiar intonation in her voice which told me that in
her own queer little way she was trying to punish me for my failure
to come to see her oftener with inquiries about Jack. She evidently
thought that my vanity would be piqued at the thought of Jack becoming
interested in any other woman after his life-long devotion to me.

But I flatter myself that my voice was absolutely non-committal as I
answered her.

"Yes, I do," I agreed, "and what a tragedy it seems that he should be
snatched away from the prospect of happiness."

The words were sincere. I was sure.

And yet--

XXXVII

A CHANGE IN LILLIAN UNDERWOOD

"Well, children, have you made any plans for Dicky's birthday yet?"

I nearly fell off my chair in astonishment at the friendliness in my
mother-in-law's tones. She had been sulky ever since we had come home
from our autumn outing in the Catskills, a sulkiness caused by her
resentment of what she chose to consider the indiscreet interest
taken in me by Robert Gordon, the mysterious millionaire whom I had
discovered to be an old friend of my parents. I shrewdly suspected,
however, that her continued resentment was more because Dicky chose
to take my part in the matter against her, than because of any real
feeling toward Mr. Gordon.

Nearly a year's experience, however, had taught me how best to manage
my mother-in-law. When she indulged herself in one of her frequent
"tantrums" I adopted a carefully courteous, scrupulously formal
attitude toward her, and dismissed her from my mind. Thus I saved
myself much worry and irritation, and deprived her of the pleasure
of a quarrel, something which I knew she would be glad to bring on
sometimes for the sheer pleasure of combat.

Her question was so sudden, her cordiality so surprising, that I could
frame no answer. Instead I looked helplessly at Dicky. To tell
the truth, I rather distrusted this sudden amiability. From past
experiences, I knew that when Mother Graham made a sudden change from
sulkiness to cheerfulness, she had some scheme under way.

Dicky's answer was prompt.

"That's entirely up to Madge, mother," he said, and smiled at me.

Although his mother tried hard she could not keep the acerbity out of
her tones as she turned to me. She always resented any deference of
Dicky to my opinion.

"Well, as Richard has no opinion of his own