She had had several weeks of nervous illness now, but looked better to-night, looked indeed her handsome and comfortable self, as she received Chris's filial kiss on her forehead, and bent to embrace her daughter. Freda carried away her long fur-trimmed cloak, and she pushed her veil up to her forehead, and looked with affectionate concern from husband to wife.
"Now, Chris, I'm spoiling things! But I thought Carry Pope told me that you were going to her dinner before the opera!"
"I'm due there at eight," he said, reassuringly. "And by the same token, I ought to be dressing! But Alice and I have been loafing along here comfortably, and I'd give about seven dollars to stay at home with my wife!"
"He always says that!" Alice said, smilingly. "But he always has a nice time; and then the next night he plays over the whole score, and tells me who was there, and so I have it, too!"
Chris had walked to the white mantelpiece, and was lighting a cigarette.
"Alice had that little protégée of yours here, to-day, Aunt Marianna," he said, casually.
There was no mistaking the look of miserable and fearful interest that deepened instantly in the older woman's eyes.
"Miss Sheridan?" she said.
"Mama," Alice exclaimed, suddenly, clasping a warm hand over her mother's trembling one, and looking at her with all love and reassurance, "you know how Chris and I love you, don't you?"
Tears came into Mrs. Melrose's eyes.