than this well-ordered,
active, useless machine.

Now that his mother had wounded his vanity he could criticize her thus.
But he could not rebel. To the end of his days he could probably go on
doing what she wanted. He watched with a cold interest the duel between
her and Miss Abbott. Mrs. Herriton's policy only appeared gradually. It
was to prevent Miss Abbott interfering with the child at all costs, and
if possible to prevent her at a small cost. Pride was the only solid
element in her disposition. She could not bear to seem less charitable
than others.

"I am planning what can be done," she would tell people, "and that kind
Caroline Abbott is helping me. It is no business of either of us, but
we are getting to feel that the baby must not be left entirely to that
horrible man. It would be unfair to little Irma; after all, he is her
half-brother. No, we have come to nothing definite."

Miss Abbott was equally civil, but not to be appeased by good
intentions. The child's welfare was a sacred duty to her, not a matter
of pride or even of sentiment. By it alone, she felt, could she undo a
little of the evil that she had permitted to come into the world. To her
imagination Monteriano had become a magic city of vice, beneath
whose towers no person could grow up happy or pure. Sawston, with its
semi-detached houses and snobby schools, its book teas and bazaars, was
certainly petty and dull; at times she found it even contemptible. But
it was not a place of sin, and at Sawston, either with the Herritons or
with herself, the baby should grow up.

As soon as it was inevitable, Mrs. Herriton wrote a letter for Waters
and Adamson to send to Gino--the oddest letter; Philip saw a copy of
it afterwards. Its ostensible purpose was to complain of the picture
postcards. Right at the end, in a few nonchalant sentences, she offered
to adopt the child, provided that Gino would undertake never to come
near it, and would surrender some of Lilia's money for its education.

"What do you think of it?" she asked her son. "It would not do to let
him know that we are anxious for it."

"Certainly he will never suppose that."

"But what effect will the letter have on him?"

"When he gets it he will do a sum. If it is less expensive in the long
run to part with a little money and to be clear of the baby, he will
part with it. If he would lose, he will adopt the tone of the loving
father."

"Dear, you're shockingly cynical." After a pause