ne late. They discussed Literature, by
which they meant the last novel but one; Art, by which they meant the
Royal Academy; and Society, by which they meant their friends who kept
carriages. Mrs. Clibborn said that, of course, she could not expect
James to pay any attention to her, since all his thoughts must be for
Mary, and then proceeded entirely to absorb him.

"You must find it very dull here," she moaned. "I'm afraid you'll be
bored to death." And she looked at Mary with her most smilingly cruel
expression. "Oh, Mary, why did you put on that dreadfully dowdy frock?
I've asked you over and over again to give it away, but you never pay
attention to your poor mother."

"It's all right," said Mary, looking down at it, laughing and blushing a
little.

Mrs. Clibborn turned again to James.

"I think it's such a mistake for women not to dress well. I'm an old
woman now, but I always try to look my best. Reggie has never seen me in
a dowdy gown. Have you, Reggie?"

"Any dress would become you, my love."

"Oh, Reggie, don't say that before James. He looks upon his future
mother as an old woman."

Then at the end of dinner:

"Don't sit too long over your wine. I shall be so dull with nobody but
Mary to amuse me."

Mrs. Clibborn had been fond enough of Mary when she was a little girl,
who could be petted on occasion and sent away when necessary; but as she
grew up and exhibited a will of her own, she found her almost an
intolerable nuisance. The girl developed a conscience, and refused
indignantly to tell the little fibs which her mother occasionally
suggested. She put her sense of right and wrong before Mrs. Clibborn's
wishes, which that lady considered undutiful, if not entirely wicked. It
seemed nothing short of an impertinence that Mary should disapprove of
theatres when there was nothing to which the elder woman was more
devoted. And Mrs. Clibborn felt that the girl saw through all her little
tricks and artful dodges, often speaking out strongly when her mother
proposed to do something particularly underhand. It was another
grievance that Mary had inherited no good looks, and the faded beauty,
in her vanity, was convinced that the girl spitefully observed every
fresh wrinkle that appeared upon her face. But Mrs. Clibborn was also a
little afraid of her daughter; such meekness and such good temper were
difficult to overcome; and when she snubbed her, it was not only to
chasten a proud spirit, but also to reass