of the utterly commonplace. She was just a
plain, ordinary woman. It was unbelievable.

They did not feel sorry for her. A second time, no doubt, would find them
humanly sympathetic, troubled, distressed, but this first time they could
only wonder, they could only doubt their senses. It would have been most
offensive in them to have let her see they noticed anything unusual in her
behaviour. At least that is the way they felt about it in their failure to
understand.

For five minutes Mrs. Tresslyn stood with her back to them. Gradually the
illy-stifled sobs subsided and, as they still looked on curiously, the
convulsive heaving of her shoulders grew less perceptible, finally ceasing
altogether. Her tall figure straightened to its full, regal height; her
chin went up to its normal position; her wet handkerchief was stuffed,
with dignified deliberateness, into the gold mesh bag. A minute more to
prove that she had completely mastered her emotions, and then she faced
her children. It was as if nothing had happened. She was the calm and
imperious mother they had always known. Involuntarily, Anne uttered a deep
sigh of relief. George blinked his eyes and also fell to wondering if they
had served him honestly, or if, on the other hand, he too had merely
imagined something incredible.

They did not question her. The incident was closed. They were never to ask
her why she had wept in their presence. They were never to know what had
moved her to tears. Instinctively and quite naturally they shrank from the
closer intimacy that such a course would involve. Their mother was herself
once more. She was no longer like other women. They could not be in touch
with her. And so they were never to know why she had cried. They only knew
that for a brief space she had been as silly as any ordinary mortal could
be, and they were rather glad to have caught her at it.

Years afterward, however, George was to say to Anne: "Queer thing, wasn't
it, that time she cried? Do you remember?" And Anne was to reply: "I've
never forgotten it. It _was_ queer."

Nor did Mrs. Tresslyn offer the slightest explanation for her conduct. She
did not even smile shamefacedly, as any one else certainly would have done
in apology. She was, however, vaguely pleased with her children. They had
behaved splendidly. They were made of the right stuff, after all! She had
not been humbled.

Apathy was restored. George slumped down in his chair and set his jaws
hard.