My aunt's favorite excitement is
disapproving of me. She was particularly trying to-day." Mrs. Farron
seemed to debate whether or not it would be tiresome to go thoroughly
into the problem of Aunt Alberta, and to decide that it would; for she
said, with an abrupt change, "Were you at this party last night that
Mathilde enjoyed so much?"

"Yes," said Wayne. "Why weren't you?"

"I wasn't asked. It isn't the fashion to ask mothers and daughters to the
same parties any more. We dance so much better than they do." She leaned
over, and rang the little enamel bell that dangled at the arm of her
daughter's sofa. "You can't imagine, Mr. Wayne, how much better I dance
than Mathilde."

"I hope it needn't be left to the imagination."

"Oh, I'm not sure. That was the subject of Aunt Alberta's talk this
afternoon--my still dancing. She says she put on caps at thirty-five."
Mrs. Farron ran her eyebrows whimsically together and looked up at her
daughter's visitor.

Mathilde was immensely grateful to her mother for taking so much trouble
to be charming; only now she rather spoiled it by interrupting Wayne in
the midst of a sentence, as if she had never been as much interested as
she had seemed. Pringle had appeared in answer to her ring, and she asked
him sharply:

"Is Mr. Farron in?"

"Mr. Farron's in his room, Madam."

At this she appeared to give her attention wholly back to Wayne, but
Mathilde knew that she was really busy composing an escape. She seemed to
settle back, to encourage her visitor to talk indefinitely; but when the
moment came for her to answer, she rose to her feet in the midst of her
sentence, and, still talking, wandered to the door and disappeared.

As the door shut firmly behind her Wayne said, as if there had been no
interruption:

"It was love you were speaking of, you know."

"But don't you think my mother is marvelous?" she asked, not content to
take up even the absorbing topic until this other matter had received due
attention.

"I should say so! But one isn't, of course, overwhelmed to find that
your mother is beautiful."

"And she's so good!" Mathilde went on. "She's always thinking of things
to do for me and my grandfather and Mr. Farron and all these old, old
relations. She went away just now only because she knows that as soon as
Mr. Farron comes in he asks for her. She's perfect to every one."

He came and sat down beside her again.

"It's going to be much easier for her daughter," h