It was too vexatious that at this climax of his life Elmer's mother should have invited herself to come and stay with them.
He was happy when he met her at the station. However pleasant it might be to impress the great of the world—Bishop Toomis or J. E. North or Dr. Wilkie Bannister—it had been from his first memory the object of life to gain the commendation of his mother and of Paris, Kansas, the foundation of his existence. To be able to drive her in a new Willys-Knight sedan, to show her his new church, his extraordinarily genteel home, Cleo in a new frock, was rapture.
But when she had been with them for only two days, his mother got him aside and said stoutly, "Will you sit down and try not to run about the room, my son? I want to talk to you."
"That's splendid! But I'm awfully afraid I've got to make it short, because—"
"Elmer Gantry! Will you hold your tongue and stop being such a wonderful success? Elmer, my dear boy, I'm sure you don't mean to do wrong, but I don't like the way you're treating Cleo . . . and such a dear, sweet, bright, devout girl."
"What do you mean?"
"I think you know what I mean!"
"Now you look here, Mother! All right, I'll sit down and be quiet, but— I certainly do not know what you mean! The way I've always been a good husband to her, and stood for her total inability to be nice to the most important members of my congregation— And of all the chilly propositions you ever met! When I have folks here for dinner—even Rigg, the biggest man in the church—she hasn't got hardly a thing to say. And when I come home from church, just absolutely tired out, and she meets me—does she meet me with a kiss and look jolly? She does not! She begins crabbing, the minute I enter the house, about something I've done or I haven't done, and of course it's natural—"
"Oh, my boy, my little boy, my dear—all that I've got in this whole world! You were always so quick with excuses! When you stole pies or hung cats or licked the other boys! Son, Cleo is suffering. You never pay any attention to her, even
