“This is all nonsense!” Mrs. Stone spoke up sharply. “You know perfectly well, Mrs. Barr, that these two foolish children can’t get married without your consent. I, for one think you’re wasting your time. Simply put your foot down and take your daughter home with you.” Sally flushed angrily and struggled to rise, but David held her back. “You’ll have to go with her, darling. Remember how you’ve always wanted a mother? You have one now, and she wants you with her, wants to make up to you for all you’ve missed.” As only mute rebellion answered him, he wisely changed his tactics: “Do you think you could ever be really happy, darling, knowing that you had hurt your mother, cheated her of the child for whom she has grieved all these years? She’ll never have another child, Sally, and she needs you as much as you need her.” When Sally’s mouth began to quiver with new tears, Enid Barr took the girl in her arms. At last Sally raised her head and searched her mother’s face with piteous intensity. “Do you really need me?” she cried. “You’ll love me—be a real mother to me? You don’t just want me because it’s your duty?” Tears clouded the clear blue of Enid’s eyes as she answered softly: “I’ll be a mother to you, Sally, not because it’s my duty, but because I already love you and will love you more and more. If I had searched the whole world over for the girl I would have liked to have as my daughter, I could not have found one who is as sweet and pretty and dear as you are. I’m proud of my daughter, and I shall hope to make her proud of me.” “Then—I’ll go with you,” Sally capitulated, but she added quickly, “If David will promise not to love any other girl until I’m old enough to marry him.” Over Sally’s head, cradled against her mother’s breast, Enid Barr and David Nash exchanged a long look, as if measuring each other’s strength. David knew then, and Enid meant him to know, that Sally’s mother had far different plans for her daughter than any that could possibly include David Nash. “I’ll always love you, Sally,” David said gravely, as he rose from the sofa. Sally struggled out of her mother’s clasp and sprang to the boy’s side just as he was reaching to the little center table for his hat. “Where are you going, David? Don’t leave me yet! Oh, David, I can’t bear to let you go! How can I write you—where? Tell me, David! Oh, I love you so I feel like I’ll die if you leave me!” Defiant of the tight-lipped disapproval of Mrs. Stone and of the anxious signal which Enid’s blue eyes were flashing him, David put his arms about Sally and held her close, while he bent his head to kiss her. “You can write me here, general delivery. I’ll stay here for a while, I think, until I can make plans—”