But Shelton, shook his head.
“You surely have not had a quarrel——”
Mrs. Shelton stopped; the question seemed so vulgar—one might have asked it of a groom.
“No,” said Shelton, and his answer sounded like a groan.
“You know, my dear old Dick,” murmured his mother, “it seems a little mad.”
“I know it seems mad.”
“Come!” said Mrs. Shelton, taking his hand between her own; “you never used to be like this.”
“No,” said Shelton, with a laugh; “I never used to be like this.”
Mrs. Shelton snuggled in her Chuda shawl.
“Oh,” she said, with cheery sympathy, “I know exactly how you feel!”