The Morris County chronicle. [volume] (Morristown, N.J.) 1877-1915, 1909-03-23

that he could not stand it? 1t is a
mere accident My love, you good
women are often terribly unjust and
sweeping in your judgments You
must not from one little foolish mis-
demeanor judge Tom. +"
"Oh, Edwardl" size cried, Judge
him! my own boy! All that feel is
that / would rather have died than
seen than look, that dreadful look, in
my child's face.
Nonsense, Garry. That is what |
call judging him. You should never
have seen it; but as for rather dying
would Tom be the better for it if
he had lost his mother, the best incu-
ence boy"
She shook her head, but how to tell
her husband of the specter who had
risen before her in the house that was
his, claiming the son who was his,
his heir, and not Carry's, she did not
know Influencel she had been help
less by the side of the father, and in
the depths of that dreadful expert
ence Carry foresaw that the son, SO
like him, so moulded upon that man
whom she had feared to the bottom OF
her heart, and. alas! /unwillingly
hated, had now escaped her, too.
There are moments which are pro-
phetic, and in which the feeblest WIS.,
ion sees clear. He had escaped her,
If, indeed, he had ever acknowledged
any influence of hers, AS a child he
had been obliged to obey her, and
still as a youth the influence of the
household that decent, tranquil,
graceful household at Easton-which
henceforward Tom would compare so
contemptuously with his own place"
and the wealth which was soon to be
his--had kept him in fashion of
submission. But Tom had always
which defiance lurked. There had
never been in him anything of that
glamor with which some children re-
gard their mother, finding in her
their first ideal. 1t had always been
WEAKNESS to Tom to be confined to
the restraint of her society When
they were children even, he and his
sister had schemed together to es-.
cape from it. She was dimly aware
that even Janet-these things are
hard for a mother to realize, but
there are moments when they come
upon her with all the certainty of
fate. Her influence! She could have
laughed or wept. AS it was with
the father, so would it be with the
son. For that moment at least poor
Carry's perceptions were clear.
But what could she say? She said
nothing; not even to Beaufort could
she disclose that miserable insight
which had come to her. Your own
children-how can you blame them to
another, even if he is your husband?
How say that, though so near in
blood and every tie, they are alien in
soul? How disclose that sad intui-
ton? Carry never said word. She
shook her head; not even perhaps to
their own father could she have re-
vealed that discovery. A mothers
part is to excuse, to pardon, to bear
with everything, even to pretend that
she is deceived and blinded by the
partially of love, not to disclose the
profound and unalterable discourage
ment with which she has recognized
Beaufort's arguments, leaving him to
believe that it was only a womans
natural severity of judgment against
the sins with which she had no SYM
pathy. And by and by she allowed
herself to be comforted. He thought
that he had brought her back to good
sense and the moderation of a less
exacting standard, and had convinced
her that boyish escapade, however
blamable, was not of the Importance
she thought. He thought he had per-
suaded her not to be hard upon Tom,
not to ,reproach him, to pass it over
as thing which might be trusted to
his good sense not to occur again.
Carry did not enter into any explana-
tions. She had by this time come to
understand well enough that she
must not expect any one to divine
what was ir her heart.
Meanwhile Janet, who was vaguely
informed on the matter, and knew
that Tom was in disgrace, though not
very clearly why, threw herself into
his defense with all the fervor that
was in her nature. She went and sat
by him while he fingered over late
breakfast with all the ruefulness of
headache. "Oh, Tom. what have you
done?" she said. "Oh, why didn't you
come in time for dinner? Oh, where
were you all the afternoon? We were
looking for you everywhere, Jock and
L." Jock was an Erskine cousin, the
eldest of the tribe.
What does it matter to you where
was?' said the sullen boy.
Toni everything matters TO me, I"
said Janet, land for one thing we
couldn't make up our game"
TO be Continued.