one of her
conferences on inebriety. Never before had he imagined that she could
feel anything but regret at his absences. "Everybody is just alike," he
found himself rather bitterly thinking.

"What do you want to know about it?" he said aloud.

"Why, everything," she returned.

"I met her," he said, "two evenings ago at a dance. I never expected to
fall in love at a dance."

"Isn't it funny? No one ever really expects to fall in love at all, and
everybody does."

He glanced at her. He had been prepared to explain to her about love; and
now it occurred to him for the first time that she knew all about it. He
decided to ask her the great question which had been occupying his mind
as a lover of a scientific habit of thought.

"Mother," he said, "how much dependence is to be placed on love--one's
own, I mean?"

"Goodness, Pete! What a question to ask!"

"Well, you might take a chance and tell me what you think. I have no
doubts. My whole nature goes out to this girl; but I can't help knowing
that if we go on feeling like this till we die, we shall be the
exception. Love's a miracle. How much can one trust to it?"

The moment he had spoken he knew that he was asking a great deal. It was
torture to his mother to express an opinion on an abstract question. She
did not lack decision of conduct. She could resolve in an instant to send
a drunkard to an institution or take a trip round the world; but on a
matter of philosophy of life it was as difficult to get her to commit
herself as if she had been upon the witness-stand. Yet it was just in
this realm that he particularly valued her opinion.

"Oh," she said at last, "I don't believe that it's possible to play safe
in love. It's a risk, but it's one of those risks you haven't much choice
about taking. Life and death are like that, too. I don't think it pays to
be always thinking about avoiding risks. Nothing, you know," she added,
as if she were letting him in to rather a horrid little secret, "is
really safe." And evidently glad to change the subject, she went on,
"What will her family say?"

"I can't think they will be pleased."

"I suppose not. Who are they?"

Wayne explained the family connections, but woke no associations in his
mother's mind until he mentioned the name of Farron. Then he was
astonished at the violence of her interest. She sprang to her feet; her
eyes lighted up.

"Why," she cried, "that's the man, that's the company, that Marty Burke
w