r existence of those hard years
she had never had a minute to indulge in the pure joy of having her
baby. I sat watching her with her first grandchild, so sweet in his
exquisite hand-sewn little clothes, and suddenly I found myself crying
hysterically.

Mother was very dear to me from that day. Later in this chronicle I
want to give a chapter to my mother and what we both suffered during
this period of her visit to New York, for it marked the climax of my own
development. When mother and the children started off on their return
trip to the West, Tom sent them flowers and candy and fruit. He had
already generously put financial worry away from my family for all time,
but I knew that he was a little ashamed of some of mother's crudities.
I wondered why I did not feel ashamed. I was very, very glad I did not.
It gave me something tangible to cling to--a sure consciousness of
power, that comes of knowing one possesses the true pride to rise above
the opinions of other people.

I would have given my life, that day, to be able to assure my family
that material security which they owed to my husband, who neither loved
nor understood them. I looked down the years and saw myself crushed by
a burden of indebtedness to a man I felt I no longer loved. Only
mother's grateful, simple happiness eased my hurt. I had never
approached my mother, but I knew now that if her natural dignity and
great, kind heart had been given the advantages that the women in my
husband's family took as a matter of course, she would have been
superior to them all. Yet they barely tolerated mother--no more.

I longed to go home to my own warm, hearty, open West. I stood on the
ferry after they had gone, thinking that, if my family were not so
deeply indebted to my husband, I would leave him. I suppose I did not
really mean that thought, but it made me unhappy. I felt disloyal and
dishonest. Finally I told Tom. There was a scene; but from that day he
began to understand me, and things were better. A few days later we
came home from a dinner party, and, after going to the baby's room for a
minute, Tom asked me to stay and talk. But he did not talk. For a long
time he sat smoking and thinking. I knew he had something on his mind,
and I waited. Finally I realized that he was embarrassed.

"Can I help? Is it something I have done that has embarrassed you?" I
asked.

That was many years ago, but I can never forget the look Tom gave me.
I