She wanted nothing more said about it. Her son’s relations with an actress might be deplorable, but, fortunately, they were only transient and need not be discussed.
But Bret would not permit his love to be dismissed with scorn. He insisted that he adored Sheila and that she was adorable. He produced photographs of her, and the mother could not deny the girl’s beauty. But she regarded it with an eye of such hostility that she found all the guiles and wiles that she wanted to find in it.
Bret insisted on his mother’s meeting Sheila, which she refused to do. She announced that she would not meet her if she became his wife. She would not permit the creature to sully her home. She warned Bret not to mention it to his father, for the old man’s heart was weak and he was discouraged enough over the conflict with the scales trust. The shock of a stage scandal might kill him.
The elder Winfield wandered into the dispute at its height. He insisted on knowing what it was. His wife tried to break it to him gently and nearly drove him mad with her delay. When she finally reached the horrible disclosure he did not swoon; he just laughed.
“Is that all! Mother, where’s your common sense of humor? The young cub has been sowing some wild oats and he’s trying to spare your feelings. Think nothing more about it. Bret is going to settle down to work, and he won’t have time for much more foolishness. And now let’s drop it. Get your things packed and mine, for I’ve got to run over to New York for a board of directors’ meeting with some big interests, and while I’m there I’ll just go to a real doctor. These fossils here all prescribe the same pills.”
Bret glared at his father almost contemptuously. He was heavily disappointed in his parents. They were unable to rise to a noble occasion.
An inspiration occurred to him. Their trip to New York came pat to his necessities. They had been cold to his description of Sheila. But once they met her, they could not but be swept off their feet—not if they had his blood in their veins.
He sent a voluminous telegram to Sheila asking her to call on his father and mother and make them hers. It was a manlike outrage on the etiquette of calls, but Sheila cared little for conventions of the stupid sort.
Bret could not persuade his mother to consent to meet Sheila and be polite until he implored her to treat Sheila at least with the humanity deserved by a Magdalen. That magic word disarmed Mrs. Winfield and gave her the courage of a missionary. She saw that it was plainly her duty to see the misguided creature. She might persuade her to change her ways. Of course she would incidentally persuade her of the impossibility of a marriage with Bret. She would appeal to the girl’s better nature, for she imagined that even an actress was not totally depraved.
In an important conference with her husband Mrs. Winfield drew up a splendid campaign. She would try the effect of reason, and, if she failed, her husband would bring up the heavy artillery.