e, and so I came up to you."

Many sons have found no hardship in accepting all that their mothers do
for them as a matter of right, no difficulty in assuming their devotion a
matter of course, no trouble in leaving their own affections to be
understood; but most sons have found great difficulty in permitting their
mothers to diverge one inch from the conventional, to swerve one hair's
breadth from the standard of propriety appropriate to mothers of men of
their importance.

It is decreed of mothers that their birth pangs shall not cease until
they die.

And George was shocked to hear his mother say that she had left his
father to come to him. It affected his self-esteem in a strange and
subtle way. The thought that tongues might wag about her revolted his
manhood and his sense of form. It seemed strange, incomprehensible, and
wholly wrong; the thought, too, gashed through his mind: 'She is trying
to put pressure on me!'

"If you think I'll give her up, Mother----" he said.

Mrs. Pendyce's fingers tightened.

"No, dear," she answered painfully; "of course, if she loves you so much,
I couldn't ask you. That's why I----"

George gave a grim little laugh.

"What on earth can you do, then? What's the good of your coming up like
this? How are you to get on here all alone? I can fight my own battles.
You'd much better go back."

Mrs. Pendyce broke in:

"Oh, George; I can't see you cast off from us! I must be with you!"

George felt her trembling all over. He got up and walked to the window.
Mrs. Pendyce's voice followed:

"I won't try to separate you, George; I promise, dear. I couldn't, if
she loves you, and you love her so!"

Again George laughed that grim little laugh. And the fact that he was
deceiving her, meant to go on deceiving her, made him as hard as iron.

"Go back, Mother!" he said. "You'll only make things worse. This isn't
a woman's business. Let father do what he likes; I can hold on!"

Mrs. Pendyce did not answer, and he was obliged to look round. She was
sitting perfectly still with her hands in her lap, and his man's hatred
of anything conspicuous happening to a woman, to his own mother of all
people, took fiercer fire.

"Go back!" he repeated, "before there's any fuss! What good can you
possibly do? You can't leave father; that's absurd! You must go!"

Mrs. Pendyce answered:

"I can't do that, dear."

George made an angry sound, but she was so motionless and pale