"Thanks," said Ellery briefly, and their eyes met in that interchange of

assurance which is the masculine American equivalent for embrace and

eternal protestation. Mrs. Percival smiled to herself, amused yet

pleased by the frank boyish affection.

"What kind of a time did you have at Mr. Early's reception?" she asked

abruptly.

"Oh, it was a circus with three rings. In the middle ring there was a

performing hippopotamus of a Hindu. He was really a sunburst. Then in

the farthest ring there were a thousand women with big hats, all talking

at once. But in the nearest there were just Madeline and Mrs. Lenox, and

that was a good show. By Jove! Madeline is prettier than ever, and

hasn't found it out yet. That's the advantage of sending a girl off to a

women's college where there is no man to enlighten her."

"Pretty! That's not the word to describe Miss Elton. She's too simple

and dignified," remonstrated Norris.

"Bowled over already, are you?" Dick jeered.

"Ellery is quite right," Mrs. Percival interrupted. "Madeline has

something Easter-lily-like about her."

"You grow enthusiastic, mother."

"I love her very dearly, Dick."

"Norris and I are going out to see her to-morrow. We'll take the motor, I

guess."

Mrs. Percival beamed down at him and gave his head an affectionate pat,

and the son glanced up with a blandness that might easily have become a

smirk. Yet his mother's complacent satisfaction with the inevitable

irritated him. Madeline Elton might be the most admirable combination

of the virtues and the graces, but he wanted to find it out for himself.

Mrs. Percival rose with the air of one who has heard and said what she

desired.

"Good night, dear boy," she purred as Dick struggled to his long legs.

"How good it is to have you to lean on and trust! These have been lonely

years while you were away. Now I shall leave you two to your quiet

smoke."

Dick kissed her hand and then her lips, as though to show both reverence

and love. Norris, too, stooped and kissed her hand, and the two watched

her as she moved in her slow way up the stairs. As she disappeared,

Norris turned and laid an arm over Dick's shoulder.

"That's the kind of thing, Percival, that you do not wholly appreciate

unless you've gone without it. I grew up without any atmosphere to speak

of, and I've been gasping for breath all my life. I wonder if I shall

ever get a full allowance of air to live in."

As they looked, friendly eye into friendly eye, Ellery seemed to review

his own life in contrast with Dick's. Dick had background; he had to

begin everything for himself. He had earned most of his way through

college; he had earned his standing among the men as he had earned his

standing in scholarship, by dogged persistence instead of by the right

of eminent domain to which Dick was born. He had never envied Percival's

readier brain, wider popularity, more profuse fortune; but something

close to envy crept upon him now for this refinement of home, this

delicate mother-love. This was a loss not to be made good by pluck or

perseverance. Love was the gift of the gods.




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