t childhood."

Sophy looked at her with wonder, and with a pitying regret. She recalled
Spencer's chapter on "Egoism versus Altruism." She thought how well it
would have been for Mrs. Loring and Morris, had his mother marked,
learned, and inwardly digested that chapter.

Mrs. Loring said that her chief regret at being ill just at present,
however, was that Eleanor and Belinda were arriving from France
to-morrow. "You see, this was to be Belinda's 'coming-out' season at
Newport, and I'm afraid Eleanor won't go to open the house without me.
She is very much attached to me," the poor lady ended, with restrained
pride. "I'm afraid she won't consent to leave me until I'm well again."

"I should think not!" exclaimed Sophy warmly. "And I shan't leave you,
either, until you're far better than you are now."

"Thanks, my dear. That is very, very sweet of you. But," she added
anxiously, "don't let Morry get an idea that I think I've any claim on
you. You know what was said: 'Forsaking father and mother'--I wouldn't
have my boy think that I would take his wife away from him, even for a
day, for my selfish pleasure."

"Oh, _dear_ Mrs. Loring!" cried Sophy. Both affection and exasperation
were in her voice. She put her cheek down against the long, feverish
hands. She wanted to shake and to "cuddle" the suffering lady at one and
the same time.

"You're a very sweet woman, my dear," said Grace Loring faintly. "I
assure you, I appreciate it that Morry has such a wife as you. He was
always so difficult. If only Eleanor would be sensible and take Belinda
to Newport. The child will be so disappointed! I confess this worries me
very much."

"But, dear Mrs. Loring, why should you worry? Even if Mrs. Horton won't
be a selfish pig and leave you here to suffer all by yourself? It's so
perfectly simple. Belinda can come to us."

"Would you?... Really?..."

Mrs. Loring had ventured to hope for this solution once--but the fear
that "Morry" might find it annoying had made her repress it. She now
added quickly:

"But you would have to find out--tactfully, my dear--indirectly, as it
were--whether Morry would object in any way."

"Why should Morris object, if I don't?" asked Sophy, a little brusquely.

"Ah, my dear ... men are very peculiar!" sighed Mrs. Loring, in reply to
this question. This phrase summed up her entire view of sexual
questions. Men were "very peculiar." All her married life had been spent
in adapting herself to the "