The last word choked in Phil's throat.
"Your mother," said Kathleen in a low voice. "She understood."
Phil looked up, and surprised the tenderness, the comprehension in the face bent toward him. "She understood," he returned slowly, "but she thought she saw her duty. I went to college. I forgot her many times, and every time I was a fool. At last, I came out and was put to the treadmill; but in my last year at school a wonderful thing happened to my mother. A Mr. Tremaine visited our cabin and left with her a little book. Sometime I will tell you about it if you care to know; but it made a great difference in her life. My work in the mine seemed typical of my life. The grime, the clank of machinery, the perfunctory drudgery, and the hand's breath of blue sky above. I crushed my longings and tried to be practical. Could purgatory be worse than, with such a nature, to be caged in underground gloom? The glimpse of sky was like my mother's eyes with their joy, their knowledge. She talked to me, she permeated me with the new point of view; the new strength; the new patience. My father praised my efficiency, and then suddenly the nightmare was broken by a message as from heaven—you know the rest!" Philip turned quickly, and again met his companion's speaking eyes.
"Kathleen, can you forgive me!" he exclaimed. "This has been an orgy of egotism!" Even as he gazed, the dark eyes veiled themselves. Only then he realized how wide-open the doors had been thrown.
"I thank you for telling me," she said, with her direct look.
"I seem," he answered, with a vague unrest,—"I seem always to have been going to tell you. There is—there is no one but you to whom I could talk like that." He stared out on the water, then changed the position of the cushion.
"Was that Mr. Tremaine a publisher?" asked Kathleen.
"I don't know. Mother has always wished she might know who he was."
"There is a Mr. Tremaine who lives in Gramercy Park who is a friend of father's."
"Gramercy Park?" repeated Phil, and suddenly remembered. "Then I believe his son and heir was my first and only patron. I made a picture for a small Tremaine one day in the park with Violet Manning."