together, Gladys, dear; you needn't be in such a hurry to end it. Sit down again. And—and I do wish you would not always call me "Lady Bligh"!'
'Then what am I to call you, pray?' Gladys smiled up into the old lady's face; she could not help facing her now, for Lady Bligh would hold her hand; she was even forced to draw the footstool closer to the easy-chair; and thus she was now sitting at Lady Bligh's feet, touching her, and holding her hand.
'Could you not—sometimes—call me—"mother"?'
Gladys laughed. 'It wouldn't be easy.'
'But why not?'
'Because you could never be a mother to me. You might to another daughter-in-law, but not to me. You, who are so gentle and graceful and—and everything, could never seem like a mother to a—well, to me. People would say so, too, if they heard me call you "mother." It would make everybody laugh.'
'Gladys! Gladys! How cruel you are to yourself! You are not what you say you are. Here—just now——'
'Ah,' said the Bride, sadly. 'Here! Just
