experiences
of the last few days had touched her and shaken her.

Up to this time Morton had considered her as a genial but rather
negative personality, a soul naturally subordinate to others, but she
now rose to an importance in his life which made her real self of the
highest significance. His first glance was one of sincerest
admiration. Doubtless she had once been as slender and quite as tall
as her daughter, and though increasing age and weight had combined to
rob her of height and grace, she was, nevertheless, still a distinctly
commanding figure. Her head was nobly fashioned, her eyes a candid
blue, and her glance clear and unworn in its appeal.

Altogether he could not but acknowledge in her a mother of which no
man need be ashamed, and in this spirit he met her and invited her to
a seat. "Mr. Lambert and I have been talking of the mountains to-day,"
he began. "I wish we were on our way out there this moment, for I am
tired of the city."

She brightened under his smile. "I wouldn't mind going home at once,
but I know Viola would be disappointed. She has seen so little of the
city, and then Mr. Clarke--" She broke off in some confusion as if in
sudden recollection of the chasm which had opened between the young
clergyman and her daughter.

He seized upon this allusion to say: "I did not think of including Mr.
Clarke, Mrs. Lambert. I think you and your daughter have both had too
much of him. I do not doubt his sincerity, but I am quite certain that
he was leading you both into an abyss. I hope you will make the most
of this chance to free yourself from his influence. I quite stand with
your husband in that resolution."

Her face grew cold again. "As to that, I must wait for further
illumination. These last few hours have been so disturbed we are quite
cut off from our guides."

"You depend upon them--they are very real to you, are they not?" He
spoke musingly.

"They are just as real to me as you are--or any one."

"Did you not doubt their wisdom to-day?"

She drew herself up. "Why should I?"

"They knew nothing of your husband's coming?"

"Oh yes, they did, only they couldn't communicate on account of
Viola's mental condition." Then, with unshakable conviction, she
added: "If I doubted them I should doubt everything."

"I am sorry to trouble you. I am not one to needlessly destroy a
comforting faith, and yet I confess I thought the time had come to
invoke your husband's aid. It was in that spirit