There was a little hesitation in his voice before he pronounced the name, but of this no one took any notice, at the time. "I have been wondering what I should do. There has been no intimacy, not more than acquaintanceship." "After what has happened you surely cannot call yourselves mere acquaintances, you and she." "Perhaps not that: but it is not as if she had thrown herself upon my sympathy, Theo. She was very self-contained. Nobody could doubt that she felt it dreadfully; but she did not fling herself upon me, as many other women would have done." "I should not think that was at all her character," said Warrender. "No, I don't suppose it is her character; and then there were already two of her, so to speak,--that child----" "The only thing I dislike in her," he said hastily, "is that child. What good can a creature of that age do her? And it must be so bad for the boy." "I don't know about the good it can do her. You don't any of you understand," Mrs. Warrender said, with a moistening of her eyes, "the good there is in a child. As young people grow up they become more important, no doubt,--oh yes, far more important,--and take their own place. But a little thing that belongs to you, that has no thoughts but what are your thoughts, that never wants to be away from you----" "Very unnatural," said the young man severely, "or else fictitious. The little thing, you may be sure, would much rather be playing with its own companions; or else it must be an unhealthy little sentimental----" Mrs. Warrender shook her head, but said no more. She gave him a look half remonstrating, half smiling. I had a little boy once, it was on her lips to say: but she forbore. How was the young man, beginning his own individual career, thinking of everything in the world rather than of such innocent consolation as can be given to a woman by a child, to understand that mystery? She whose daughters, everybody said, must be "such companions," and her son "such a support," looked back wistfully upon the days when they were little children; but then she was an unreasonable woman. She was roused from a little visionary journey back into her own experiences by the sound of Theo's voice going on:-- "----should call and ask," he was saying. "She might want you. She must want some one, and they say she has no relations. I think certainly you should call and ask. Shall I order the brougham for you this afternoon? I would drive you over myself, but perhaps, in the circumstances, it would be more decorous----" "It must be the brougham; if you think I ought to go so soon----" "Well, mother, you are the best judge; but I suppose that if women can be of any use to each other it must be at such a--at a time when other people are shut out."