‘You surely cannot disapprove of that. My dear mother, you at one time wished me to marry her. You told me so.’ ‘You have the most extraordinary, perverted ideas of right and duty, Sebastian. Can you suppose that I ever wished you to marry a girl whose father committed suicide after behaving in a far from honourable way in his business affairs, and whose brother absconded with a large sum of money which he had stolen, and who is now--who knows where he is, or what he is doing, or what trouble he may cause his relations even yet?’ Sebastian almost smiled at the utter opposition of his mother’s ideas to his own. They never saw but one side each of the other’s nature--not because neither had another side to show, but because of the formation of their respective mental eyes. Yet, for the sake of appearances, he must argue the matter out. ‘Suppose we had married at the time you wished it,’ he suggested. ‘These things would have happened all the same. As it is, they are now nearly forgotten. No one with any feeling would wish to remind her of them. If you could only see her, you would forget them all, in looking at herself. She was always a beautiful girl, but now she is lovelier than ever, and more charming.’ She was silent. ‘Will you not say you approve of this, mother! You know I will not seek a wife with a fortune. If she had happened to have money, well and good; but I would rather have her without, and with the beauty and the love that Helena gives me.’ ‘It is a mockery to ask me whether I approve of it. You will do it whether I approve or not.’ ‘But if you will approve--if you will hold out your hand to Helena, and accept her as my wife, you will gratify me beyond measure. You know, it is really your fault. You threw Helena in my way at first, and she must have made a much deeper impression upon me than I knew, for a few weeks ago, when I met her unexpectedly, I was scarcely master of myself. It was all over with me from that moment.’ ‘And suppose I do not approve?’ ‘I should be unspeakably grieved. We are alone in the world, almost. You are the very nearest relative a man can have; but you will agree,’ and he stooped and gently kissed her cheek. She started. With that kiss seemed to come suddenly to her a great revelation, the revelation of the love which she had thrust obstinately away from her. She had received her son as a child, and had tried to curb and control him; and when he acted as a man, she had enclosed herself within a wall of icy reserve, and had repelled every advance he had made. The truth rushed upon her mind now with overwhelming force. She was a selfish, a profoundly selfish, woman; but somewhere, not quite withered away within her, there lay the remains of a mother’s heart. ‘I am your mother, Sebastian,’ she said, with a sudden tremor in her voice. ‘It is very strange that we should have got on so badly since you came home.... I have had no wish but for your prosperity and well-being, and yet----’