"Perhaps all this is a part of our discipline. They are wiser than we. I accept even this disgrace as a good in disguise. Perhaps it was all intended to bring you to me."
The youth sank back again baffled by this all-inclosing acceptance. "What do you intend to do to-day?" he asked, as she rose and walked over to the little walnut table.
"I am going to ask for advice."
"Now?"
"Yes; and I wish you would sit with me for a few moments and see if we cannot secure direction for the day."
He was beginning to be curious—and his desire to dig deeper into his mother's brain overcame part of his repugnance.
"All right," he boyishly answered, but his heart contracted with sudden fear of finding her false. "Let's see what they're up to."
"Take a seat opposite me," she said, and there was something commanding in her voice.
Drawing a chair up to the old brown table—which he remembered as one of the pieces of furniture in his earliest childhood home—he took a seat.
"Why do you keep this rickety old thing?" he asked, shaking it viciously.