"Louis, are you speaking with any thought of—that woman in your mind?" she asked in a voice that quivered slightly.
"Yes, mother."
"I knew it," she said, under her breath; "I knew it was that—I knew what had changed you—was changing you."
"Have I altered for the worse?"
"I don't know—I don't know, Louis!" She was leaning heavily on his elbow now; he put one arm around her and they walked very slowly over the fragrant grass.
"First of all, mother, please don't call her, 'that woman.' Because she is a very sweet, innocent, and blameless girl…. Will you let me tell you a little about her?"
His mother bent her head in silence; and for a long while he talked to her of Valerie.
The sun still hung high over the Estwich hills when he ended. His mother, pale, silent, offered no comment until, in his trouble, he urged her. Then she said:
"Your father will never consent."
"Let me talk to father. Will you consent?"