"Well that's no reason why he should treat your ladyship so shamefully, I'm sure. Of all crafts,—and it was the only craft his poor father, who, to do him justice, was one of the best workmen that ever handled a saw or drove a nail, could never understand,—of all crafts, I say, to be an honest man is the master-craft. Something, then, to appease the wrath of God; something to blunt this persistent agony. Yes!" she screamed, "these are his father's features! It is—it is my son!" "Mother!" cried Thames; "are you, indeed, my mother?" "I am, indeed—my own sweet boy!" she sobbed, pressing him tenderly to her breast. " "Because he said he was a Yale man?" "That might be it. ’ ‘Tchah!’ He glared at her. Great vistas of history opened, and she and her aunt were near reverting to the primitive and passionate and entirely indecorous arboreal—were swinging from branches by the arms, and really going on quite dreadfully—when their arrival at the Palsworthys’ happily checked this play of fancy, and brought Ann Veronica back to the exigencies of the wrappered life again. She should leave sooner, but she just could not bear missing the event. She was pleased and a little flattered by his interest and sympathy.
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