en
unmoved to what you have told me just now--that you intend to leave my
roof, that my only son finds his home so uncongenial, and his life here
so irksome, that he is forced to quit it?"

"Mother, you are making things worse and worse," returned Malcolm
passionately; "you are putting matters in a wrong light. Will you
listen to me a moment?"

"Have I ever refused to listen to you, my son?" and a softer and more
motherly expression came into the gray eyes.

"No, you have always been kind," he replied; but there was a slight
quiver in his voice. "Mother, it is not my fault--at least I hope
not--that we think so differently on most subjects. I am nearly
eight-and-twenty, and at that age a man is bound to do the best for
himself."

"I hoped you would have married before this, Malcolm."

"There is no question of marrying at present," he returned in a
constrained voice. "I have not yet seen the woman whom I wish to make
my wife."

Then a singular expression crossed Mrs. Herrick's face.

"I am sorry to hear that, Malcolm; I would have willingly given you up
to a wife, but life in chambers seems to me so Bohemian."

"It is only an idea," he returned impatiently. "Mother dear, try to
believe that I am doing it for the best--for both our sakes. I am not
leaving you alone--you have Anna; and in spite of all your kindness to
me, I am well aware that I have never been any real help or comfort; if
I thought you needed me--that you relied on me for assistance or
protection--I would never have carved out this independent life."

"It is the spirit of the age," she returned a little bitterly; "it is
the children who make terms, and the parents who have to yield and
submit."

"That is an old argument, mother," replied Malcolm wearily; "how often
we have gone over that ground, you and I. When our wills have clashed
it seems to me the concessions have all been on my side. How many men
of my age do you suppose would have yielded to you in the matter of a
latch-key? Poor old Anderson has been the chief sufferer, and the
victim of your strictness; do you think it has not troubled me to keep
him up night after night?"

"Anderson is my servant, and has to do his duty," replied Mrs. Herrick
rather stiffly.

"And he has done it," was Malcolm's answer; "he has been perfectly
conscientious; if he grumbled a bit now and then, no one could wonder,
at his age. Mother, it is no good talking--it is not only the question
of the latch-ke