Meanwhile Ben Barry had reached home and made a rather formal toilet for the evening meal. Even before his mother saw it, she knew she was going to be disciplined. While the waitress remained in the room the young man's gravity and meticulous politeness would have intimidated most mothers with a conscience as guilty as Mrs. Barry's. She was forced to raise her napkin several times, not to dry tears, but to conceal smiles which would have been sure to add fuel to the flame.
She showed her temerity by soon dismissing the servant. Her son met her twinkling eyes coldly. She leaned across the table toward him and revealed the handsome teeth he had inherited.
"Now, Benny, don't be ridiculous," she said.
This beginning destroyed his completely. He arrived at his climax at once.
"How could you be so heartless!" he exclaimed. "She had told me she wanted you to love her. Your coldness shocked her."
This appeal, so pathetic to the speaker, caused Mrs. Barry again to raise her napkin to her rebellious lips.
"I tell you," went on Ben heatedly, "she has been through so much that the surprise and humiliation of your manner made her faint."
"Now, dear, be calm. Didn't I bring her to again? Didn't I do up her hair—it's beautiful, but I like it better wound up, in company—didn't I want to give her—"
"Do you suppose," interrupted Ben more hotly, "do you suppose she wasn't conscious, and hurt, too, by her unconventional appearance?"
He was arraigning his parent now with open severity.