“Something like it. Marion has carried herself well about this marriage.” “Why shouldn’t she? She had nothing to carry herself about.” “You don’t know girls. A memory is a memory.” “How do _you_ know?” he laughed. “But this is not helping us out about Roger,” she remarked, ignoring his words and laugh. “Roger will help himself out; he isn’t his father’s son for nothing.” “As Marion was not her mother’s girl for nothing,” was the demure reply. “How do you know—how can you be so certain sure that he wants Judith?” “She is the very light of his eyes. She has been for years. A mother can see. The thought of her is always about him.” “Does Marion see it?” Roger’s father inquired, convinced. He had a thorough respect for his wife’s judgment. “No; that’s the queer part of it. I think Roger is guarded with her. He never had a secret from his mother.” “Young men never have,” the young man’s father threw in. “But I know Roger; I wouldn’t be afraid to ask him.” “Then, why don’t you?” “Because I know without asking,” she silenced him. “Now, to come back to the starting point—what do you intend to do about it?” “Bring Judith here,” she replied impressively. “That’s a fine move; an effectual separation.” “If I could send her anywhere else he would think it his duty to go and see her, he would have to know how she was doing—pay her bills, and so forth. There’s no one else to be a father to her. Mrs. Brush leaves everything with him. She has no knowledge of any world outside of that village.” “Perhaps she is trying to catch him for Judith.” “Such a worldly thought would never enter her dear, pretty, simple, shrewd head. She has her catch, and she didn’t catch him with guile. She would rather keep Judith than set her on the throne of England. _That’s_ out of the question.” “Well, I do see that point about bringing her here. He can see her naturally here; nothing to thwart him; she’s such a girl, no older than Martha—you never have any scares about Martha.” “Martha has never been thrown so with anybody, I wouldn’t allow it. I try to be always on the safe side?” “You didn’t seem to be on Judith’s safe side.” “I couldn’t. Nobody asked me. There she was studying at the parsonage, before I knew it.” “She was only a child then.” “And I thought it such a good outlet for Marion—it was one of the first things that roused her—that and her Outing Society. My only fear was that she was taking Judith up for the sake of her Cousin Don. His influence somehow seems to run through everything. But I know better now. Judith won her own way. But I didn’t know I was sacrificing Roger to Marion.” “How could you have hindered?” “I could have brought Marion home,” she answered, decidedly. “And spoiled the good Bensalem was doing for _her_.” “Oh, dear,” with a sigh, “how lives are tangled up.” “And it’s rather dangerous for our fingers to get into the tangle,” he suggested, with mild reproof. “But we must do something,” she exclaimed, in despair.