p, frank mistrust, and turned away through the open door. Rowland
looked after her with extraordinary interest.

CHAPTER II. Roderick

Early on the morrow Rowland received a visit from his new friend.
Roderick was in a state of extreme exhilaration, tempered, however, by
a certain amount of righteous wrath. He had had a domestic struggle, but
he had remained master of the situation. He had shaken the dust of Mr.
Striker's office from his feet.

"I had it out last night with my mother," he said. "I dreaded the scene,
for she takes things terribly hard. She does n't scold nor storm, and
she does n't argue nor insist. She sits with her eyes full of tears
that never fall, and looks at me, when I displease her, as if I were
a perfect monster of depravity. And the trouble is that I was born to
displease her. She does n't trust me; she never has and she never will.
I don't know what I have done to set her against me, but ever since I
can remember I have been looked at with tears. The trouble is," he went
on, giving a twist to his moustache, "I 've been too absurdly docile.
I 've been sprawling all my days by the maternal fireside, and my dear
mother has grown used to bullying me. I 've made myself cheap! If I 'm
not in my bed by eleven o'clock, the girl is sent out to explore with
a lantern. When I think of it, I fairly despise my amiability. It 's
rather a hard fate, to live like a saint and to pass for a sinner! I
should like for six months to lead Mrs. Hudson the life some fellows
lead their mothers!"

"Allow me to believe," said Rowland, "that you would like nothing of
the sort. If you have been a good boy, don't spoil it by pretending you
don't like it. You have been very happy, I suspect, in spite of your
virtues, and there are worse fates in the world than being loved too
well. I have not had the pleasure of seeing your mother, but I would lay
you a wager that that is the trouble. She is passionately fond of you,
and her hopes, like all intense hopes, keep trembling into fears."
Rowland, as he spoke, had an instinctive vision of how such a beautiful
young fellow must be loved by his female relatives.

Roderick frowned, and with an impatient gesture, "I do her justice," he
cried. "May she never do me less!" Then after a moment's hesitation, "I
'll tell you the perfect truth," he went on. "I have to fill a double
place. I have to be my brother as well as myself. It 's a good deal to
ask of a man, especially w