His mother was out for lunch, so he ate it alone, and afterwards went for a solitary walk, elated to think that there would be no more hanging about in London with nothing to do. The ten days before school began stretched pleasantly ahead and as he came quietly into the drawing-room for tea, his cheeks flushed with walking, he looked a happy, carefree, small boy. Mrs. Pratt was sitting on the sofa beside his mother. "How do you do, Edwin?" she said gravely, "your poor Mother's just been telling me how upset she is." Edwin looked both surprised and concerned. "What's wrong?" he asked. Mrs. Pratt looked at him reproachfully and shook her head slowly from side to side as she said: "Oh, Edwin. To think you've forgotten already how you grieved her this morning." "Don't say anything more," interrupted Dora, smiling bravely. "I suppose it is weak of me to be so hurt, and since Edwin wants to go and leave me, he must just do it." "Listen to your mother," urged Mrs. Pratt admiringly. "Never thinking of herself, always planning for your happiness, and then see if you've the heart to go against her wishes." Edwin felt that he had been treated with some sort of subtle treachery. His brows were drawn into a scowl, and he looked sullen and resentful as he said stubbornly: "I don't know what you mean. I told Mother I wouldn't go to Grannie if she didn't want me to, but she said I might, and I've written and now I'm going." He half turned away but Mrs. Pratt laid her hand on his arm as her voice went on gently: "That action was so like your wonderful mother, dear boy. You're all she's got and yet she'll sacrifice herself to let you go if you want. Now don't you think you could make a little sacrifice for her and stay at home?" Edwin kicked the leg of the tea table and fidgeted with his hands, but he did not answer. "You see it's no use," said Dora bitterly. "He'll do nothing for me; better say no more." She poured out tea, clattering the china in her nervous annoyance. Mrs. Pratt began again: "Oh, Edwin, dear, I'm sure you don't mean to be unkind----" but Edwin interrupted her rudely. His mouth was shaking, but his voice was quite steady. "It isn't fair," he said passionately. "It isn't fair of Mother to begin at me again. She shouldn't have told you anything about it. I said I'd do what she wanted, but it was all arranged that I could go and now she's gone and raked it all up again with you. But I'm going all the same." He stopped confusedly, and became aware of his mother moaning gently: "Oh, Edwin, oh, Edwin!" Mrs. Pratt was repeating in her amazement. "Well, I'd never have believed it; I'd never have believed it." "Believe what you like," Edwin addressed her distractedly and turned to his mother. "Don't go on saying 'Oh, Edwin'," he shouted. "I hate my name; I hate everything." He ran from the drawing-room, and Mrs. Greene subsided into tears.