did leave
Banbridge and the rest of the family were in Kentucky, why, the girl
could be judged separately; and if Randolph should fancy her--she was
not at all sure that he did--of Charlotte she had not a doubt. She
had never had a doubt of any woman's attitude of readiness to grasp
the sceptre, if it were only held out by her son. And she herself was
conscious of something which was almost infatuation for the girl.
Something about her appealed to her. She had an almost fierce impulse
of protection, of partisanship.

Anderson himself had not the least realization of his mother's actual
sentiments in the matter. It was the consequence in inconsequence of
a woman, which a man can seldom grasp. From what he had known of his
mother's character heretofore, a girl coming from such a family would
have been the last one to appeal to her for a daughter-in-law. She
had been plainly hostile to young women with much superior
matrimonial assets. He had often surmised that she did not wish him
to marry at all. He did not understand the possibility there is in
some women's natures of themselves falling in love, both individually
and vicariously, with the woman who loves their sons, or who is
supposed to love their sons.

"Captain Carroll came into the yard just as I drove out," said Mrs.
Anderson. "He is a very fine-looking man. It is a pity." Then she
added again, with an obscure accent of congratulation, "Well, if he
goes away nobody need say anything more against him."

Anderson reflected, without expressing it aloud, that it was doubtful
if Carroll's exit was possible, and, if possible, would be conducive
to silence from his creditors, but he apparently continued to read.

"He is a very handsome man," said his mother again, "and he has the
air of a gentleman. He bowed to me like a prince. He is a very
fine-looking man, isn't he?"

Before Anderson could reply the door-bell rang.

"I wonder who it is," Mrs. Anderson said, in a hushed voice.

"Somebody on business, probably," replied Anderson, rising. The maid
had gone out. As he went into the front hall his mother rustled
softly into the dining-room. She was always averse to being in the
room when men came on business. Sometimes commercial travellers
infringed upon Anderson's home hours, and she was always covertly
indignant. She was constantly in a state of armed humility with
regard to the details of business. She felt the incongruity of
herself, the elderly gentlewoman i