me a
mother. The expression of her face was discontented and captious.
Edwin did not see her until she was close upon him, and then he
immediately became self-conscious and awkward.

"Hello, Clara!" he greeted her, with his instinctive warm, transient
smile, holding out his hand sheepishly. It was a most extraordinary and
amazing thing that he could never regard the ceremony of shaking hands
with a relative as other than an affectation of punctilio. Happily he
was not wearing his hat; had it been on his head he would never have
taken it off, and yet would have cursed himself for not doing so.

"We are grand!" exclaimed Clara, limply taking his hand and dropping it
as an article of no interest. In her voice there was still some echo of
former sprightliness. The old Clara in her had not till that moment
beheld the smart and novel curves of Edwin's Shillitoe suit, and the
satiric cry came unbidden from her heart.

Edwin gave an uneasy laugh, which was merely the outlet for his disgust.
Not that he was specially disgusted with Clara, for indeed marriage had
assuaged a little the tediousness of some of her mannerisms, even if it
had taken away from her charm. He was disgusted more comprehensively by
the tradition, universal in his class and in most classes, according to
which relatives could not be formally polite to one another. He obeyed
the tradition as slavishly as anyone, but often said to himself that he
would violate the sacred rule if only he could count on a suitable
response; he knew that he could not count on a suitable response; and he
had no mind to be in the excruciating position of one who, having
started "God save the Queen" at a meeting, finds himself alone in the
song. Why could not he and Clara behave together as, for instance, he
and Janet Orgreave would behave together, with dignity, with
worldliness, with mutual deference? But no! It was impossible, and
would ever be so. They had been too brutally intimate, and the result
was irremediable.

"She's got no room to talk about personal appearance, anyway!" he
thought sardonically.

There was another extraordinary and amazing thing. He was ashamed of
her condition! He could not help the feeling. In vain he said to
himself that her condition was natural and proper. In vain he
remembered the remark of the sage that a young woman in her condition
was the most beautiful sight in the world. He was ashamed of it. And
he did not think it beau