e read were, although
he was unconscious of it, such as contributed to his spiritual
adornment, to fit himself for his constant dwelling in his country of
dreams. Certain people he avoided, certain he courted. One woman, who
was innately coarse, although her life had hedged her in safely from
impropriety, was calling upon his mother one afternoon about this
time. She was the wife of the old Presbyterian clergyman, Dr. Gregg.
She was a small, solidly built woman, in late middle life, tightly
hooked up in black silk as to her body, and as to her soul by the
prescribed boundaries of her position in life. Anderson, returning
rather earlier than usual, found her with his mother, and retreated
with actual rudeness, the woman became all at once so repellent to
him.

"My son gets very tired," Mrs. Anderson said, softly, as she passed
the pound-cake again to her caller. "Quite often, when he comes in,
he goes by himself and has a quiet smoke before he says much even to
me."

Mrs. Gregg was eating the pound-cake with such extreme relish that
Mrs. Anderson, who was herself fastidious, looked away, and as she
did so heard distinctly a smack of the other woman's lips.

"He grows handsomer and younger every time I see him," remarked Mrs.
Gregg when she had swallowed her mouthful of cake and before she took
another.

Mrs. Anderson repeated the caller's compliment to her son later on
when the two were at the supper-table. "Yes, she paid you a great
compliment," said she; "but, dear, why did you run out in that way?
It was almost rude, and she the minister's wife, too."

"I don't see how Dr. Gregg keeps up his necessary quota of saving
grace, living with her," said Anderson.

"Why, my dear, I think she is a good woman."

"She is a bottled-up vessel of wrath," said Anderson.

"My son, I never heard you speak so before, and about a lady, too."

Anderson fairly blushed before his mother's mild eyes of surprise.
"Mother, you are right," he said, penitently. "I ought to be ashamed
of myself, and I am. I know I was rude, but I did not feel like
seeing her to-day. Of course she is a good woman."

Mrs. Anderson looked a little reflective. Now that her son had taken
a proper attitude with regard to her sister-woman, she began to feel
a little critical license herself. "I will admit that she has little
mannerisms which are not exactly agreeable and must grate on Dr.
Gregg," said she. As she spoke she seemed to hear again the smacking