erved it without enthusiasm, and noticing that, his mother shut the
box abruptly.

"Neil, that's the first prize."

"Looks like it. I spoke the Gettysburg address, and they always fall for
that. Good-bye, I'm off."

"Neil, come back here."

He swung round with his cap doubled under his arm, and stood before her,
helpless and sullen, hedged about with that sudden dignity which no
woman creature can break through, but seeming to derive no comfort from
it. Painful colour mounted to her cheeks, as if the effort of keeping
him there was all she could manage without the effort of opening
delicate subjects.

"Neil, I'm worried about you."

"Why? Are you afraid I'll marry beneath me? I won't marry without your
consent. It's not being done."

"You got three dollars from the _Clarion_ last week."

"Are you afraid I'll try to support a wife on it?"

"It's the most you've made from them. Why weren't you proud of it? Why
aren't you proud of this prize? A year ago you'd have had me up at one
to speak your piece to me. There's no life in you, and no pride, and I
know why."

"Me with so much to be proud of."

"You're good enough for any girl, but----"

"Do you think I don't know my place, with the whole town teaching it to
me going on eighteen years? I've got no false hopes, and I shan't lose
my head over any girl. Let me be."

"It's not the town that's taught you your place, it's----"

"Don't you say her name."

"--empty headed and overdressed."

"Go on. Judith Randall don't care what you think of her."

"Can't you even get up enough spirit to stand up for her? You that
thought you had your fortune all but made when you got the chickens paid
for, and followed me round the house, telling me how you'd run the town?
You that could tell what was wrong with the _Record_ editorials, if you
couldn't pay for a year's subscription to the paper? You----"

"Yes, I come from one of the five lines in Ireland what have a right to
the O', but you never tell me that unless you've got something else to
tell me that you're afraid to tell. What is it this time?"

"You come of Irish kings."

"What did Uncle say last night?"

"Well, he's getting to be an old man."

"What did he say?"

His mother did not reply. She avoided his eyes, and made no further
criticism of him, or of a young lady who was no doubt as indifferent to
her criticisms as Neil said, since she did not recognize Mrs. Donovan on
the street.

"Uncle," Neil de