A REBELLIOUS GRANDMOTHER
"I have played long enough," he said; "business calls"
As Mrs. Beale made ready for the ride she surveyed herself wistfully in her mirror. There were shadows under her eyes, and faint little lines toward the corners of her lips—it even seemed to her that her chin sagged. She had a sudden sense of revolt. "If I were young, really young," she thought, "he would not be going away"
With this idea firmly fixed in her mind, she exerted herself to please him; and her little laugh made artificial music in his ears, her fixed smile wore upon his nerves, her staccato questions irritated him.
Again they had dinner together, and as she sat opposite him, gorgeous and gay in her gown of geranium red, he began to talk with her of her daughter.
"I've never met her. It has seemed to me that you might have let me see her"
Cissy flushed. "She's such a great grown-up," she said. "Somehow when I'm with her I feel—old"
"You will never seem old," he said, with the nearest approach to tenderness that had softened his voice for days. "You have in you the spirit of eternal youth"
Then he floundered on. "But a mother and a
321
