. "There's an immense deal in that, I admit--I admit. I'm bound
to say I don't know quite what I did--one does those things, no doubt,
with a fine unconsciousness: I should have thought indeed it was the
other way round. But I assure you I accept all consequences and all
responsibilities. If you don't know what's the matter between us I'm
sure _I_ don't either. It can't be much--we'll look into it. I don't
mean you and I--YOU mustn't be any more worried; but she and her
so unwittingly faithless one. I HAVEN'T been as often, I know"--Van
pleasantly kept his course. "But there's a tide in the affairs of
men--and of women too, and of girls and of every one. You know what I
mean--you know it for yourself. The great thing is that--bless both your
hearts!--one doesn't, one simply CAN'T if one would, give your mother
up. It's absurd to talk about it. Nobody ever did such a thing in his
life. There she is, like the moon or the Marble Arch. I don't say, mind
you," he candidly explained, "that every one LIKES her equally: that's
another affair. But no one who ever HAS liked her can afford ever
again for any long period to do without her. There are too many stupid
people--there's too much dull company. That, in London, is to be had by
the ton; your mother's intelligence, on the other hand, will always have
its price. One can talk with her for a change. She's fine, fine, fine.
So, my dear child, be quiet. She's a fixed star."

"Oh I know she is," Nanda said. "It's YOU--"

"Who may be only the flashing meteor?" He sat and smiled at her. "I
promise you then that your words have stayed me in my course. You've
made me stand as still as Joshua made the sun." With which he got
straight up. "'Young,' you say she is?"--for as if to make up for it
he all the more sociably continued. "It's not like anything else. She's
youth. She's MY youth--she WAS mine. And if you ever have a chance,"
he wound up, "do put in for me that if she wants REALLY to know she's
booked for my old age. She's clever enough, you know"--and Vanderbank,
laughing, went over for his hat--"to understand what you tell her."

Nanda took this in with due attention; she was also now on her feet.
"And then she's so lovely."

"Awfully pretty!"

"I don't say it, as they say, you know," the girl continued, "BECAUSE
she's mother, but I often think when we're out that wherever she is--!"

"There's no one that all round really touches her?" Vanderbank took it
up with zeal. "Oh