ort to mother, although I have cost her so much
care. But for a long time her chief pleasure, after her delight in
Felix, has been in our companionship. So that is something, and I read
a good deal and think all I can, and I try to do through others the
little good in the outside world that is possible to me."

She leaned back again feebly and closed her eyes for a moment in
physical weariness. "And so at last," she went on, meeting his
compassionate look with a faint smile, "I come to be--not unhappy."

"And now the opportunity is coming," he assured her impulsively, "for
you to make some use of your sweet, strong spirit and your capable
brain. But I don't know--Felix--I don't know--" he hesitated, casting
at her a keen, inquiring glance, but continued in a confident tone:
"But you'll understand, you'll see it's for the best! Oh, I know
you'll agree that I'm doing the right thing!"

He saw the fatigue in her countenance and rose to go. "I'm afraid I've
tired you, Penelope, but I hope you'll forgive me when I tell you what
pleasure our talk has given me. Before I go I want to ask you one more
thing--about your mother. Did she--was she much grieved by what I did
about--Felix and that bribery business?"

A look of gratification crossed Penelope's face. "I hoped you wouldn't
go away without saying something about that," she said frankly. "Of
course, it grieved her. She was deeply hurt."

"I knew she would be," he interrupted sorrowfully. "But it was the
best way I could see. I thought it would be a warning to Felix."

"Of course she didn't believe it was true. She thought you were acting
under a conviction of public duty and that you were mistaken in your
understanding of what had happened. You impressed her very much when
you were here and she thought so much about you afterwards that it was
hard for her to reconcile your action with your friendship for Felix.
But she did and finally came to think it really noble in you to hold
what you thought to be the public good above your personal feelings."

"But it was Felix I was thinking of chiefly," he protested. "Still, it
was very sweet of her, and very like her, too, to look at it in that
way. Would she--do you think she would be glad to see me if she were
at home?"

"I am sure she would," replied Penelope cordially. "She was so pleased
with her fancy of your being her dream son and of your coming toward
us out of the snow-storm like some one in a dream--dear mother!