e mother, not wishing to stand in the way
of her boy's pleasure, gives a reluctant consent. She makes no attempt
to disguise the anxiety she will feel while he is on the way, and
impresses on his mind the importance of sending her a telegram, as soon
as he has arrived safely at his destination. George laughs at her fears,
boy-fashion, and promises to do as she wishes.

No sooner has he started on his way, than the mother's heart enters upon
a period of increasing perturbation. Suppose something should happen to
the steamer--that it should break down, or catch fire, or run on a
reef--or that there should be a railroad accident--or that George should
lose his ticket, or be robbed of his money and find himself in some
far-away spot, not knowing what to do with no one to go to? Then that
long motor ride through deserted country--suppose it should be raining
and the roads slippery and they should try to make it too fast? So many
things are among the possibilities, and one can never be sure until it
is over.

Some people might feel inclined to smile at this account of a mother's
apprehension, but it is only a natural attribute of devoted love,
ineffably sweet and beautiful. While the precious child is exposed to
possible dangers, she cannot help feeling thus. She talks to the father
about it, wanting the comfort of his reassurance; and she lies awake
that night imagining things and counting the hours that must separate
her from the telegram announcing George's safety.

At last the time comes when, according to schedule, she may expect the
message. She waits about, in momentary suspense, for the telephone ring
from Western Union.

Now suppose the minutes pass and then the hours, until the mother's
apprehension grows into feverish and unreasoning alarm. She gets word to
her husband and communicates her alarm to him. As more time passes, the
conviction comes that something has happened to their son, and something
must be done. They attempt to get a long distance telephone connection
with the home of George's friend, but after a long delay and various
appeals, the report comes that there is a break-down on the line
somewhere, in the mountain section. They get in communication with the
steamboat offices and the railroad station, and after interminable
efforts finally ascertain that there has been no accident on either
line. There remains the motor trip--or the possibility of a personal
mishap to George at some stage of the jou