The young men who were Mrs. Arnot's guests were naturally attracted to Laura's side, and she speedily proved that she possessed the rare power of entertaining several gentlemen at the same time, and with such grace and tact as to make each one feel that his presence was both welcome and needed in the circle.

Mrs. Arnot devoted herself to Haldane, and showed how genuine was her interest in him by taking up his life where his last letter left it, and asking about all that had since occurred. Indeed, with almost a mother's sympathy, she led him to speak of the experiences of the entire year.

"It seems to me," he said, "that I have scarcely more than held my ground."

"To hold one's ground, at times requires more courage, more heroic patience and fortitude, than any other effort we can make. I have been told that soldiers can charge against any odds better than they can simply and coolly stand their ground. But I can see that you have been making progress. You have graduated with honor. You are surely winning esteem and confidence. You have kept your faith in God, and maintained your peculiar usefulness to a class that so few can reach: perhaps you are doing more good than any of us, by proving that it is a fact and not a theory that the fallen can rise."

"You are in the world, but not of it," he said; and then, as if anxious to change the subject, asked. "Did you see my mother?"

Although Mrs. Arnot did not intend it, there was a slight constraint in her voice and manner as she replied: "Yes, I took especial pains to see her before I returned, and went out of my way to do so. I wished to assure her how well you were doing, and how certain you were to retrieve the past, all of which, of course, she was very glad to hear."

"Did she send me no message?" he asked, instinctively feeling that something was wrong.

"She said that she wrote to you regularly, and so, of course, felt that there was no need of sending any verbal messages."

"Was she not cordial to you?" asked the young man, with a dark frown.

"She was very polite, Egbert. I think she misunderstands me a little."

His lace flushed with indignation, and after a moment's thought he said bitterly, and with something like contempt, "Poor mother! she is to be pitied."

Mrs. Arnot's face became very grave, and almost severe, and she replied, with an emphasis which he never forgot: "She is to be loved; she is to be cherished with the most delicate consideration and forbearance, and honored--yes, honored--because she is your mother. You, as her son, should never say, nor permit any one to say a word against her. Nothing can absolve you from this sacred duty. Remember this as you hope to be a true man."




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