“Is it not more pleasant outside?” said Mrs. Van Dorn. “I will sit here, if you will allow. Christine, are not those magnolias nearly in bloom? I wonder if you would get me a bud. They are the first I have seen.” And Christine, thus dismissed, left Lolita to face the situation alone. For a moment Mrs. Van Dorn said nothing, but sat looking at the girl standing before her, eyes downcast and hands clasped. It was useless to deny that she was a beautiful creature. Surely one would needs go far to find a maiden so near perfection. Her face in repose was very serious. The casual observer might have called it cold unless he saw the expression of her eyes. “My son has been visiting you, I believe,” Mrs. Van Dorn began. “He is a very good friend of yours, is he not?” “Si, señora. Yes, madam, I am have the honor to call him so.” “Do not stand,” said her visitor. And Lolita gravely seated herself upon the grass, leaving the bench for her guest’s sole occupancy. “I wish to know----” Mrs. Van Dorn felt that it was brutal for a stranger to try to probe the girl’s secrets, but she remembered her son and steeled herself to go on. “I wish to know if my son is more than a friend; if he has said things to you such as young men will say and to which girls like to listen.” Lolita raised her solemn eyes. “He has said many beautiful thing to me,” she answered. “He has asked you to marry him, perhaps, and you have answered--what?” “He has my heart,” said Lolita simply. One who thought her cold should have seen the light of deep emotion which overspread her face. Mrs. Van Dorn hesitated. It was difficult to go on. This was no worldly-wise damsel ready to assert her rights, to defy interference, to claim her own. What could a mother say to such a girl as this? “My son is very ambitious,” she continued. “We are ambitious for him. My husband wished him to study law and some day he might rise to be a judge. It is my wish also. He is my only son. I have great hopes in him. I think he is too young to marry.” This subterfuge came suddenly; it was not what she had meant to say, but with those soulful eyes upon her she could not come to her point at once. She turned her gaze away to where Christine was dutifully gathering flowers. Lolita made no answer. It was not her place to take the initiative, and consequently the difficulties for the mother increased. “I do not mean,” she went on, “that I never wish him to marry, but that it may be later on when he knows his own mind better,” and then she paused. “His sisters, his family, I, myself, would like to see him marry a young woman who could win him friends, who could help him in his career and gain him popularity. A man’s wife can be either a great help or a great hindrance to him.” She spoke as if impersonally, but Lolita understood. Her dark eyelashes swept her cheek. She was very pale. “Don’t you think so?” Mrs. Van Dorn went on, feeling the girl’s silence a reproach.