tion; but he knew he was giving up
something that he valued more than his life as he began to speak. "We
feel the difference in background," he said, "of early traditions, of
judging life from the same point of view. Such differences can be
overcome by time and money--" He stopped, for she was looking at him with
the same wondering interest, devoid of anger, with which he had seen her
study Wilsey. "I express myself badly," he murmured.

Mrs. Wayne rose to her feet.

"The trouble isn't with your expression," she said.

"You mean that what I am trying to express is wrong?"

"It seems so to me."

"What is wrong about it?"

She seemed to think over the possibilities for an instant, and then she
shook her head.

"I don't think I could make you understand," she answered. She said it
very gently, but it was cruel, and he turned white under the pain,
suffering all the more that she was so entirely without malice. She
turned to her son. "I'm going, Pete. Don't you think you might as well
come, too?"

Mathilde sprang up and caught Mrs. Wayne's hand.

"Oh, don't go!" she cried. "Don't take him away! You know they are trying
to separate us. Oh, Mrs. Wayne, won't you take me in? Can't I stay with
you while we are waiting?"

At this every one focused their eyes on Mrs. Wayne. Pete felt sorry for
his mother, knowing how she hated to make a sudden decision, knowing how
she hated to do anything disagreeable to those about her; but he never
for an instant doubted what her decision would be. Therefore he could
hardly believe his eyes when he saw her shaking her head.

"I couldn't do that, my dear."

"Mother!"

"Of course you couldn't," said Mr. Lanley, blowing his nose immediately
after under the tremendous emotion of finding that she was not an enemy,
after all. Adelaide smiled to herself. She was thinking, "You could and
would, if I hadn't put in that sting about his failures."

"Why can't you, Mother?" asked Pete.

"We'll talk that over at home."

"My dear boy," said Mr. Lanley, kindly, "no one over thirty would have
to ask why."

"No parent likes to assist at the kidnapping of another parent's child,"
said Adelaide.

"Good Heavens! my mother has kidnapped so many children in her day!"

"From the wrong sort of home, I suppose," said Lanley, in explanation, to
no one, perhaps, so much as to himself.

"Am I to infer that she thinks mine the right sort? How delightful!"
said Adelaide.

"Mrs. Wayne, is it beca