on his twenty-first birthday. But James was making a sufficient income of his own now: he was working in a merchant's office, and—was she growing selfish?—James did not seem to hold so big a claim upon her as he did when he was not strong. Her own desire for happiness was rising between her and James, now that her days were numbered. The money would mean little to James, in contrast to what it would mean to her. Even if he travelled, he would never see what she would see, never look into the soul of Nature and be one with her. But James would not travel with the money; he would bank it, or only draw enough to go to Margate like John.
James, too, was going to marry soon. He was courting some one, judging from several things she had noticed. He would marry and have his children about him, so would easily forget her. She would be dead in a year, and only a memory to James. She could imagine him quoting 'poor mother' to his wife—'As poor mother used to do,' or 'as poor mother used to say.' James was a dutiful son, he never caused her a pang of sorrow for a sin of his. Why did she keep thinking she would have liked him better if he was not quite
