"It's really too much," she said, "that I cannot have my one quiet Sunday a month with you. I never wanted you to go to boarding school at all. I only yielded because your coming here gave your father a place where he could see you without being obliged to come to my house--not pleasant for either of us. But it's a mistake to yield an inch to some people, as I ought to have known. I insist on my own Sunday. All other days are open to him, except this one, and so, of course, that's just the only one--" "Only, mother dear, while he's been away I have been coming down to you in New York for most of my Sundays." Mrs. Hazlitt had a way of opening her large black eyes until her curved lashes were flattened against her lids and looked as if they trimmed her eyes with black fringe. She did it now. "And does he complain of that?" she asked. "Isn't it natural for a girl to spend her Sundays with her mother; or does he expect while he's away you and I--" "No, no, mother. He doesn't complain. Father isn't a complainer." "Lita! You hurt my feelings very much, criticizing me like that." "Dearest mums, I didn't criticize you." "You did! You said I was always complaining." "No, dear, I only said that father did not." This was so true that Mrs. Hazlitt could not deny it, and so with great quickness she shifted her ground. "Isn't it something new," she said, "for you to feel it necessary to defend your father at every sentence?" "I wasn't exactly defending him. I only--" "My dear, you don't need to apologize for defending your father--very laudable, I'm sure. I feel deeply sorry for him myself--over forty, without a natural human tie. Only I do not feel called on to give up one of my few opportunities of being with you in order to suit his caprices." "Is it exactly a--" "It is exactly that. Rather late in the day for him to begin to discover the responsibilities of parenthood. Is he to have all the rewards?" It did not seem a promising beginning; and Lita, in whom her mother's rapidly reflected changes of idea always set up a sort of baffled confusion, sighed. Her mother caught instantly that long-drawn-in breath and went through a complete change of mood--as rapid as her mental changes. "Oh, well, of course you must lunch with him. I suppose that is what he wants, isn't it?" Lita simply adored her mother when she was suddenly kind and reasonable like this. It was, the girl knew, a striking triumph of the maternal instinct over the hardly less fundamental human instinct to stick up for one's rights. "Oh, mums, you are awfully good," she said. This was not the right thing to say; perhaps nothing would have been. "Don't thank me," her mother answered sharply, "as if I were doing you a favor. I didn't suppose you were so crazy to leave me. Oh, I know; and, after all, we have all the rest of our lives to spend together. Be sure to get back in time to walk to the train with me."