Misjudged

Although Mrs. Arnot did not intend it, there was a slight constraint in her voice and manner as she replied: "Yes, I took especial pains to see her before I returned, and went out of my way to do so. I wished to assure her how well you were doing, and how certain you were to retrieve the past, all of which, of course, she was very glad to hear."

"Did she send me no message?" he asked, instinctively feeling that something was wrong.

"She said that she wrote to you regularly, and so, of course, felt that there was no need of sending any verbal messages."

"Was she not cordial to you?" asked the young man, with a dark frown.

"She was very polite, Egbert. I think she misunderstands me a little."

His lace flushed with indignation, and after a moment's thought he said bitterly, and with something like contempt, "Poor mother! she is to be pitied."

Mrs. Arnot's face became very grave, and almost severe, and she replied, with an emphasis which he never forgot: "She is to be loved; she is to be cherished with the most delicate consideration and forbearance, and honored--yes, honored--because she is your mother. You, as her son, should never say, nor permit any one to say a word against her. Nothing can absolve you from this sacred duty. Remember this as you hope to be a true man."

This was Mrs. Arnot's return for the small jealousy of her girlhood's friend.