“Julian,” she said, “what is it that has gone wrong between you and Maud Pomeroy?” A flash, so quick in the passing that its intense bitterness was not to be detected, passed across Julian’s face; it seemed to leave him armed with an expression of determined brightness which defied all emotion or sentiment. “I don’t know that anything has ‘gone wrong,’ dear,” he said lightly. His mother’s hold on his arm tightened desperately. “I saw what happened to-night in the supper-room,” she said. “Won’t you”--her voice broke, and there came to it a strangely beseeching note--“won’t you tell me what it is?” Julian’s face grew rather set, and he paused a moment. Then he said, still in the same tone: “It is nothing that I need worry you about, dear.” “Something might be done. If I knew what it was it could be set right, I know.” “No, dear!” The words came from Julian quickly and instantly, and there was a decision and significance behind his light tone now. Her speech had created a necessity, and he rose instinctively to meet it. “I’m awfully sorry to distress you, but I assure you nothing can be done. A girl must be allowed to know her own mind, you know. And a certain little question asked and answered, the only thing left to the fellow is to retire gracefully. I’m awfully sorry you are cut up about it; I was afraid you would be. Never mind, dear. I’m in no particular hurry.” He had gained in fluency and expansiveness of manner as he proceeded; the expedient had only occurred to him on the spur of the moment; and as he finished he bent down and kissed her lightly on the forehead. “Good night,” he said. “Sleep as well as I intend to do.” He left her with a nod and a smile, shutting the door behind him, and Mrs. Romayne stood for a moment motionless, as she had received his kiss, staring at the door through which he had disappeared. Then she began to rub her hands feebly against one another as though a great cold had seized her. She was trembling from head to foot. “Failed!” She spoke the word half aloud in a low, shivering tone, which gave to its isolated utterance a strangely weird effect. CHAPTER V