his behavior on the occasion of announcing her engagement to Jason. He might behave in the same fashion again; and on the first occasion he had only forgiven her when Jason had vindicated his opinion by disappearing. Elmer, she knew, loved to say, "I told you it would end like this."
There remained only Philip, and he was too ill to be told; but when she thought of it, she began to doubt whether she would have told him if he had been well.
It was the first time since his return that she had had need to confide in him, and now she found herself troubled by the feeling that it wouldn't be easy. Until now she had gone bravely on, ignoring the changes in their relations as mother and son, but now that a test had arisen, she saw that there had been a change. She saw, despite herself, that he had become in a way a stranger—her boy, who had always loved her, whom she worshipped with a maternal passion too intense to be put into words. Her boy, whose very character she had created as she had created his flesh, had become a stranger with whom she couldn't even discuss her own plans. Once he would have believed that whatever she did was right.
As she thought of it, she walked more rapidly. Why, she asked herself, had this happened to her? Hadn't she given all her life to him? Hadn't she worked her fingers to the bone? Hadn't she watched and guarded him from evil and sin, kept him pure? Had she ever thought of anything but his welfare and saving him from the pitfall of his father's weaknesses? A lump came into her throat, and a moisture into her eyes. What had she done to deserve this?
She felt no resentment against him. It was impos-
