“Are you calling, mother?” answered Herbert from another room.
“Yes,” said Mrs. Heywood. “I want you.”
“I don’t feel a bit like cribbage, mother,”’ said Herbert.
“I don’t want you to play cribbage to-night,” said the old lady. “I have something to say to you.”
“Has Clare gone?” asked Herbert, still calling from the other room.
“Yes,” said Mrs. Heywood. “But she won’t be long.”
“Oh, all right. I’ll be along in a moment.”
Mrs. Heywood went back into the room and waited for her son eagerly. Presently he came in with a pipe in his hand and book under his arm. He had changed into a shabby old jacket, and was in carpet slippers.
“What’s the matter, mother?” he asked.
“There’s nothing the matter,” said the old lady; then she became very excited, and raised her hands and cried out: