Then she went about the pretty task of straightening the books and papers, and restoring the sitting-room to its yesterday's freshness.
"I am glad mothers don't spoil their children," her mother said, satisfaction in her voice, as she watched Louise moving among the disordered elements, bringing order out of confusion.
"I didn't spoil her, did I, Lewis? What a lovely home you have had here all these years! I am glad you have demonstrated the folly of the saying that no house is large enough for two families. How could anything be better than the arrangement which you have here? Mrs. Morgan was telling me this morning that when you talked for a time of going to housekeeping it almost made her sick. I'm very glad you didn't. Little John gives Louise care enough without the responsibilities of housekeeping; though your mother says, Lewis, that she takes a great deal of care from her. I think she has rather an exaggerated opinion of you, Louise; perhaps she is trying to spoil you."
"She is a remarkable little woman, you will have to admit," Lewis said, in a half-laughing tone, but regarding his wife with eyes in which she saw earnestness and tender feeling. "I am glad you brought her up so well, mother; there are not many who would have succeeded with the problem of two families in one house as she has done."
"Yes," said the mother emphatically; "and then there is another thing to be taken into consideration. She had unusual surroundings. Anybody can see that your mother is an unusual woman. Probably Louise's experience has been exceptional. I really believe at heart that there are not many houses large enough for two families. I trembled for Louise. I used to watch every letter critically for signs of failure. You see I did not know your father and mother. I did not feel so anxious about the father; they always get along well with daughters-in-law if the mothers do. But I worried a good deal, unnecessarily I can see now. Still it is, after all, an exceptional case. Don't you think so?"
Lewis turned slowly round from the mantel against which he had been leaning and regarded his wife with a curious look—eyes that were brimming with a mischievous light, and yet had behind the light a suggestion even of tears. His voice, when he spoke, had also that curious hint of pent-up feeling.
"Yes, it is an exceptional case. Very few daughters-in-law have such experiences. I do consider my mother an unusual woman, and my wife an unusual wife. And I tell you in all honesty, mother, that we of the Morgan family thank God every day of our lives for the vine from your branch that was grafted into ours."
THE END.