not that he
cared for the bonnet particularly, but he was a-sweethearting. He was
going to spoil his girl if he could, that was what he said. His girl
only looked up with glistening eyes, and submitted obediently to be
haled along in the direction of a "swell" milliner's place, the name of
which Jack had secured after much examination of the directory and much
inquiry in offices where he was acquainted.

As they walked along the busy street they met a lady of unmistakably
distinguished appearance. Instantly she recognized the mother and son,
and stopped to greet them.

She was an old playmate of Jack's and a protege of his mother's, now
the wife of a man of brains, influence, money, and a leader in the
social life of the City of the Straits.

There came an inspiration to the man. "Mrs. Sheldon," said he, "I want
you to help us. We are this moment about to engage in a business
transaction of great importance; in fact, if you must know the worst, we
are going to buy a bonnet!"

Mrs. Sheldon entered into the shopping expedition with a zest which
reminded Jack of the Scriptural battle-steed which sayeth "Ha-ha" to the
trumpets. When the brief but brisk and determined engagement was over,
Jack's mother appeared in a bonnet of delicate gray, just a shade darker
than her silver hair. There was a pink rose in that bonnet, half hidden
by lace, and in the cheeks of its wearer faintly bloomed two other pink
roses. It was just a dream in bonnets as suited to the woman. The mother
had protested prettily, had said the bonnet was "too young" and all
that, but had been browbeaten and overcome and made submissive. Mrs.
Sheldon was in her element, and happy. Well she knew the man of the
world who had demanded her aid, and much she wanted to please him; but
deeper than all, her woman's instinct told her of his suddenly realized
love for his old mother, and she was no longer a woman of fashion alone,
but a helpful human being. Even her own eyes were suspiciously moist as
she dragged the couple off to dine with her.

They were to go to the theater that evening, the man and his
sweetheart, and by chance stumbled upon a well-staged comic opera, with
good music and brilliant and picturesque although occasionally scanty
costumes. On the way down the son told the mother of how in Detroit, way
back in the sixties, he had seen for the first time a theatrical
performance. He told her what she had forgotten, how she had induced his
father to t