"I do want a lot for Roger," agreed Mary eagerly and Mrs. Greene exulted in the thought of how much her death would do for this satisfactory and devoted young couple. Money she could give them in her life-time, but what was money compared to Lynton whose lovely perfection was solace enough for the bitterness of life and the fear of death? She switched abruptly off this trend of thought. "If we are dining early and going out," she said, "it's certainly time I got up and began to think about dressing. And we've never taken the tray down. Let me help you, Mary, like a good child." But Mary refused help, piled the tray up competently and left the room. Mrs. Greene found herself strangely comforted by this short and uneventful conversation. Later, as she dressed, she thought about the young Dodds and their contemporaries. They have good points, these young people, she decided finally; lots of courage and spirit; and how pleasant it is to think that I, who was brought up a model of deportment, at the end of my life should find myself able to take things in my stride. She smiled over the phrase. Uncouth and slangy as it was, it seemed to her to show a good enough standard, and when she went downstairs she said gaily, "Roger, your wife's been teaching me modern slang and I like it." III The evening was a very happy one. There was a distinct air of festivity about the elderly woman and her two young companions as they sat in the restaurant enjoying dinner, liking and admiring each other and full of pleasurable anticipations of the play. Mary looked pretty. The lamps were becomingly shaded and softened her too pronounced features. Roger's naturally sober manner never lapsed into heaviness and much of his anxiety had been allayed by the way in which his aunt had not only welcomed the news of his prospective son, but was determined to help at what was undoubtedly a crisis in his affairs. Sarah Greene was lost in the pleasure of the moment. As she looked at Roger and Mary and thought of them at Lynton, her heart was warm and her mind at peace. "My dear children," she said towards the end of the dinner, "I'm very pleased with you both; I want you to be very happy." "This really is a celebration," said Mary excitedly, "we are enjoying ourselves." But Roger lifted his glass, and looking at Mrs. Greene smiled charmingly. "I'd like you to drink to our friendship, Aunt Sarah," he said. "I'm thirty-two now, and I've appreciated you for quite twenty years. Our relationship is something I value very highly." For a moment the emotional tension was high. Rare tears sprang to Sarah Greene's eyes. "My dear Roger," she stammered, "my dear boy. It is so sweet of you to say that; I'm getting old and I need your affection." She stopped uncertainly and Roger saw that her usually imperturbable face was blurred and twisted; the face of an old woman. Before he had clearly taken in her sudden change of feature Mary intervened.