, of course, foolish. You ought to
check it at once."

"Gussie, I don't like you to talk that way about my father," Cyrus
began.

"You'll like it less later on. He'll go and see her to-morrow."

"Why shouldn't he go and see her to-morrow?" Cyrus said, and added a
modest bad word; which made Gussie cry. And yet, in spite of what his
wife called his "blasphemy," Cyrus began to be vaguely uncomfortable
whenever he saw his father put his pipe in his pocket and go across the
street. And as the winter brightened into spring, the Captain went quite
often. So, for that matter, did other old friends of Mrs. North's
generation, who by-and-by began to smile at one another, and say, "Well,
Alfred and Letty are great friends!" For, because Captain Price lived
right across the street, he went most of all. At least, that was what
Miss North said to herself with obvious common-sense--until Mrs. Cyrus
put her on the right track....

"What!" gasped Mary North. "But it's impossible!"

"It would be very unbecoming, considering their years," said Gussie;
"but I worry so, because, you know, nothing is impossible when people
are foolish; and of course, at their age, they are apt to be foolish."

So the seed was dropped. Certainly he did come very often. Certainly her
mother seemed very glad to see him. Certainly they had very long talks.
Mary North shivered with apprehension. But it was not until a week later
that this miserable suspicion grew strong enough to find words. It was
after tea, and the two ladies were sitting before a little fire. Mary
North had wrapped a shawl about her mother, and given her a footstool,
and pushed her chair nearer the fire, and then pulled it away, and
opened and shut the parlor door three times to regulate the draught.
Then she sat down in the corner of the sofa, exhausted but alert.

"If there's anything you want, mother, you'll be sure and tell me?"

"Yes, my dear."

"I think I'd better put another shawl over your limbs?"

"Oh no, indeed!"

"Mother, are you _sure_ you don't feel a draught?"

"No, Mary; and it wouldn't hurt me if I did!"

"I was only trying to make you comfortable--"

"I know that, my dear; you are a very good daughter. Mary, I think it
would be nice if I made a cake. So many people call, and--"

"I'll make it to-morrow."

"Oh, I'll make it myself," Mrs. North protested, eagerly; "I'd really
enjoy--"

"Mother! Tire yourself out in the kitchen? No, indeed! Flora and I will