rself, you are shocked and disappointed to find that she can wish
to descend from her beautiful and guarded solitude here, and mix with
her fellow-creatures in the work-a-day world. Why," said John, in a
tone rather of dreaming and tenderness than of argument, "that would
be to tear the jewel from its setting--the noble central figure from
the calm landscape, lit by the evening sun."

There was a pause, during which Peter smoked energetically.

"Well," he said presently, "of course I can't follow all that
highfalutin' style, you know--"

"Of course not," said John, "I understand. You're a plain Englishman."

"Exactly," said Peter, relieved; "I am. But one thing I will
say--you've got the idea."

"Thank you," said John.

"If you can put it like that to my mother," said Peter, still busy
with his pipe, but speaking very emphatically, "why, all I can say is,
that I believe it's the way to get round her. I've often noticed
how useless it seems to talk common-sense to her. But a word of
sentiment--and there you are. Strange to say, she likes nothing
better than--er--poetry. I hope you don't mind my calling you rather
poetical," said Peter, in a tone of sincere apology. "I wish, John,
you'd go straight to my mother, and put the whole case before her,
just like that."

"The whole case!" said John. "But, my dear fellow, that's only half
the case."

"What do you mean?"

"The other half," said John, "is the case from _her_ point of view."

"I don't see," said Peter, "how her point of view can be different
from mine."

John's thoughts flew back to a February evening, more than two
years earlier. It seemed to him that Sir Timothy stood before him,
surprised, pompous, argumentative. But he saw only Peter, looking at
him with his father's grey eyes set in a boy's thin face.

"My experience as a barrister," he said, with a curious sense of
repeating himself, "has taught me that it is possible for two persons
to take diametrically opposite views of the same question."

"And what happens then?" said Peter, stupidly.

"Our bread and butter."

"But _why_ should my mother leave the place she's lived in for years
and years, and go gadding about all over the world--at her time of
life? I don't see what can be said for the wisdom of that?"

"Nothing from your point of view, I dare say," said John. "Much from
hers. If you are willing to listen, and if," he added smiling, as an
afterthought, "you will promise not to interru