Sugar Maple Lake is small for the Adirondacks, being no more than three miles long and a mile and a half in width. All its shores are owned by rich men, mostly from New York, who can keep themselves secluded. In seclusion they are able to combine rusticity with the amenities of life, in a wealthy, modern, American version of Marie Antoinette's humble village at Versailles. At a stranger's first glance, the "camps" are but lumbermen's log cabins on a larger scale; but when you come to the conveniences and luxuries of living, they differ little from Marillo Park.
Reaching the thin line of maples and pines fringing the edge of the lake, Bob turned to see if he was followed. At first there was no one. The light from the windows and doors made a golden splotch on the greenish silvery black of the sloping lawn, but no figure appeared in the glow. Coming to the conclusion that this, too, was "a put-up job," he was strolling back again when his mother, cloaked against the night air, stole out and called his name softly.
On reaching him she took his arm, and together they picked their way along a graveled path leading toward the Point.
"I'm so glad you've come," she said, instantly. "I've been having such a terrible time with your father. You know how he is—so stern—so relentless—"
"He's been corking to me."
"You mean the cablegram he sent you to Rio? Oh, well, I made him do that. It's all over now, dear, and you mustn't worry; but at first—that night when we heard that the Follett boy had got into trouble and I had to tell your father of your marriage—well, I don't want to make things out worse than they are, so I sha'n't tell you what he said; but I did manage him. I soothed him and told him how he ought to take it and what he ought to do—with the result that you got that message. You mustn't think it was easy, dear—"
"You've been a brick, old lady!"
"I'm your mother, Bob. It's all summed up in that. Whatever makes for my children's happiness makes for mine. Your father is not a woman, and that's the difference between us. And now I've had all this trouble with him over Edith's engagement; but he's given in at last."
Bob sprang away from her.
"Edith engaged? Who to? Not to Ayling?"