In a moment, however, he
recovered himself. After all, he had a sense of loyalty and duty
which amounted to positive strength. He put Maria gently from him
with another kiss.

"Well, this won't bring your mother back, dear," he said, "and God
took her away, you know, and what He does is for the best; and She
means to do her duty by you, you know, dear. She thought it would be
better for you, but father can't spare you, that's all there is about
it."

Chapter XIII

It was an utter impossibility for Ida Edgham to be entirely balked of
any purpose which she might form. There was something at once
impressive and terrible about the strength of this beautiful, smiling
creature's will, about its silence, its impassibility before
obstacles, its persistency. It was as inevitable and unswervable as
an avalanche or a cyclone. People might shriek out against it and
struggle, but on it came, a mighty force, overwhelming petty things
as well as great ones. It really seemed a pity, taking into
consideration Ida's tremendous strength of character, that she had
not some great national purpose upon which to exert herself, instead
of such trivial domestic ones.

Ida realized that she could not send Maria to the school which she
had proposed. Her strength had that subtlety which acknowledges its
limitations and its closed doors, and can look about for other means
and ways. Therefore, when Harry came down-stairs that Sunday
afternoon, his face working with emotion but his eyes filled with a
steady light, and said, with no preface, "It's no use talking, Ida,
that child does not want to go, and she shall never be driven from
under my roof, while I live," Ida only smiled, and replied, "Very
well, dear, I only meant it for her good."

"She is not going," Harry said doggedly.

Harry resumed his seat with a gesture of defiance which was absurd,
from its utter lack of any response from his wife. It was like
tilting with a windmill.

Ida continued to sway gently back and forth, and smile.

"I think if the Adamses do come in to-night we will have a little
salad, there will be enough left from the chicken, and some cake and
tea," she observed presently. "We won't have the table set, because
both the maids have asked to go out, but Maria can put on my India
muslin apron and pass the things. I will have the salad made before
they go, and I will make the tea. We can have it on the table in
here." Ida indicated, by a graceful motion of