to nurse a
resentment against those at home and will not believe that the family
still bears them an affectionate good-will quite other than it feels for
even the best-liked of the friends who are not of the same descent.

On England's part, she saw the younger ones go out into the world with
regret, strove to restrain them unwisely, obstinately, unfairly--and
failed. Since then she has been very busy, supremely occupied with her
own affairs. The young ones who had gone out into the world in, as
seemed to her, such headstrong fashion, for all that she knows now that
she was wrong, have been doing well, and she has always been glad to
hear it, but--well, they were a long way off. At times she has thought
that the young ones were somewhat too pushing--too anxious to get on
regardless of her or others' welfare,--and half-heartedly (not all
unintentionally, but certainly with no thought of alienating the
affection of the others) she has interfered or passively stood in the
young folk's way. At last the day came when she was horrified to find
that the younger branch--very prosperous and independent now--had not
only ceased to regard her as a mother but had come almost to the point
of holding her as an enemy. It was at first incredible and she strove as
best she could to put matters right and to explain how foreign to her
wishes it was and how unnatural it seemed to her that there should be
any approach to ill-feeling between them. But she does not convince the
other, partly because she herself has in her turn grown out of touch
with that other's ideas. At intervals she has met members of the younger
branch who have come home to visit and she has discovered all sorts of
new tricks of manner, new ways of speech, new points of view that they
have picked up in their new surroundings, and, like the members of the
younger branch themselves, she sees more of these little things than she
does of the character that is behind them. Her vision of the family
likeness is blurred by the intrusion of provoking little points of
difference. She sees the mannerisms, but the strength of the qualities
of which they are manifestations escapes her.

So it comes about that the two are at cross purposes. "We may call this
country Daughter," wrote G. W. Steevens, "she does not call us Mother."
The elder sincerely desires the affection of the younger--sincerely
feels affection herself; but is hampered in making the other realise her
sincerity by a c