"But, even if I don't go in for the diplomatic service, Granny, that's no reason why I . . ."
The old woman raised her hand almost angrily, imposing silence upon him:
"Diplomacy is the finest profession in the world," she said, sharply. "There's nothing above it. . . . It's just those new ideas, dear, which Granny can't keep up with and which make her so sad, because she doesn't understand them. . . ."
"Granny, I can't bear to see you crying like this."
He sat down beside her, took her hand, looked into her eyes. She mistook his gentleness:
"Won't you think it over, Addie?" she asked, softly and coaxingly.
"No, Granny," he said, in a calm, decided tone. "I can't do that."
"You mean, you won't."
"I can't, I mustn't, Granny."
"You mustn't?"
"No, Granny. Do try to realize, Granny dear, that I mustn't."
The old woman's head went up and down, nodding bitter reproaches. . . .
"Granny, may I promise you to try my hardest . . . to do you credit, one of these days . . . as a doctor?"
She gave an angry, contemptuous smile through her tears. He kissed her very tenderly. . . .
