stepped back into a moon-lit space. Looking at him tragically, she extended her arms and spoke slowly and solemnly.
“Chester, choose between us. If you choose her, I shall go from you to-night, and you will never see me again!”
“Mother!”
“Choose!”’ she reiterated, fiercely.
He felt her long ascendancy. Its influence was not to be shaken off in a moment. In all his life he had never disobeyed her. Besides, with it all, he loved her more deeply and understandingly than umost sons love their mothers. He realized that, since she would have it so, his choice was already made — or, rather that he had no choice.
“Have your way,” he said sullenly.
She ran to him and caught him to her heart. In the reaction of her feeling she was half laughing, half crying. All was well again — all would be well; she never doubted this, for she knew he would keep his ungracious promise sacredly.
“Oh, my son, my son,” she murmured, “you'd have sent me to my death if you had chosen otherwise. But now you are mine again!”
She did not heed that he was sullen — that he resented her unjustice with all her own intensity. She did not heed his silence as they went into the house together. Strangely enough, she slept well and
