as alone with her son, all her
secret restlessness and anxiety had vanished, and she remarked almost
with glee that her husband had telephoned from the golf links to say
that he would not be back for lunch; then, remembering that Michael
had gone to talk to his father after breakfast, she asked him about the
interview.

Michael had already made up his mind as to what to say here. Knowing
that his father was anxious about her, he felt it highly unlikely that
he would tell her anything to distress her, and so he represented the
interview as having gone off in perfect amity. Later in the day, on
his father's return, he had made up his mind to propose a truce between
them, as far as his mother was concerned. Whether that would be accepted
or not he could not certainly tell, but in the interval there was
nothing to be gained by grieving her.

A great weight was lifted off her mind.

"Ah, my dear, that is good," she said. "I was anxious. So now perhaps we
shall have a peaceful Christmas. I am glad your Aunt Barbara and Francis
are coming, for though your aunt always laughs at your father, she does
it kindly, does she not? And as for Francis--my dear, if God had given
me two sons, I should have liked the other to be like Francis. And shall
we walk a little farther this way, and see poor Petsy's grave?"

Petsy's grave proved rather agitating. There were doleful little stories
of the last days to be related, and Petsy II. was tiresome, and insisted
on defying the world generally with shrill barkings from the top of
the small mound, conscious perhaps that his helpless predecessor slept
below. Then their walk brought them to the band of trees that separated
the links from the house, from which Lady Ashbridge retreated, fearful,
as she vaguely phrased it, "of being seen," and by whom there was no
need for her to explain. Then across the field came a group of children
scampering home from school. They ceased their shouting and their games
as the others came near, and demurely curtsied and took off their caps
to Lady Ashbridge.

"Nice, well-behaved children," said she. "A merry Christmas to you all.
I hope you are all good children to your mothers, as my son is to me."

She pressed his arm, nodded and smiled at the children, and walked on
with him. And Michael felt the lump in his throat.

The arrival of Aunt Barbara and Francis that afternoon did something, by
the mere addition of numbers to the party, to relieve the tension