Philip passed an arm about her as he kissed her cheek.
“It would be hard to lose you, mother,” he told her.
“Silly boy! Do I look like dying?” she asked.
“I did not mean that,” he rejoined. Then he ceased abruptly.
She went to the big wardrobe that occupied almost the entire side of her room. She was going to choose a hat to put on.
“Put on a pretty one,” said Philip. “And, mother, why don’t you have a black one with a big white ostrich feather? I think that looks A 1.”
She glanced at him sharply. She recalled at once with a pang the wearer of the hat her son was thinking of. She knew of Dan’s infatuation for Miss Le Breton.
Surely—surely her beloved boy was not going to suffer a second martyrdom! That would be too cruel. Aimée Le Breton was not only a very beautiful and charming woman, but she was like Eweretta. It was fearfully possible that Philip should fall in love with her, and that he should discover that she loved Dan Webster. Alvin, too, appeared to be encouraging Dan.
Oh, it would be too sad! too horribly cruel!
She stood with the hat she had chosen to wear in her hand, and seemed to hesitate.