stealing round
her neck.

"'Three thousand!' says he."

"Mother," the boy whispered, "did you give it to him?"

Again, she drew him to her: as all mothers will, when, in the twilight,
they tell tales to their children, and the climax approaches.

"'Four thousand!' says he."

"Mother," the boy implored, "tell me quick! What did you say?"

"'Lord Wychester,' says I, 'I don't give kisses,' says I, 'because my
son doesn't want me to do no such thing! No, sir! Not for a million
dollars!'"

She was then made happy by his rapturous affection; and she now first
perceived--in a benighted way--that virtue was more appealing to him
than the sum of her physical attractions. Upon this new thought she
pondered. She was unable to reduce it to formal terms, to be sure; but
she felt a new delight, a new hope, and was uplifted, though she knew
not why. Later--at the crisis of their lives--the perception returned
with sufficient strength to illuminate her way....

Presently the boy broke in upon her musing. "It was blondes Lord
Wychester liked," he remarked, with pride; "wasn't it, mother?"

"Slim blondes," she corrected.

"Bleached blondes?"

She was appalled by the disclosure; and she was taken unaware: nor did
she dare discover the extent, the significance, of this new
sophistication, nor whence it came, lest she be all at once involved in
a tangle of explanation, from which there could be no sure issue. She
sighed; her head drooped, until it rested on his shoulder, her wet
lashes against his cheek--despairing, helpless.

"What makes you sad?" he asked.

Then she gathered impetuous courage. She must be calm, she knew; but
she must divert him. "See," she began, "what it says about your mother
in the paper!" She ran her finger down a long column of the fulsome
description of the great Multon ball--the list of fashionables, the
costumes. "Here it is! 'She was the loveliest woman at the dance.'
That's me. 'All the men said so. What if she is a bleached blonde?
Some people says that bleached blondes is no good. It's a lie!'" she
cried, passionately, to the bewilderment of the boy. "'God help them!
There's honest people everywhere.' Are you listening? Here's more
about me. 'She does the best she can. Maybe she _don't_ amount to
much, maybe she _is_ a bleached blonde; but she does the best she can.
She never done no wrong in all her life. She loves her son too much
for that. Oh, she loves her son! S