"If she is, it's no one's business but my own. You all seem determined to run her down." "You cannot accuse me of that. I have had her to luncheon several times. I admit she is a bright sensible little woman—too fond of affecting to be young, for she's old enough to be your mother; but she ought not to come in the way of your duties. Your father ought to come first with you." "He doesn't, then," muttered Austin rebelliously. "I don't want to make mischief," pursued Mrs. de Cressiers relentlessly; "but if you will neglect the estate and pay no regard to our wishes, I shall go down to Mrs. Norman and tell her the harm she is doing you." Austin laughed. "I am not a baby to be coerced by such threats. You will do yourself more harm than you will do her or me if you venture to mix her up with it." So it went on. Mrs. de Cressiers had an iron will, but so had her boy when roused, and she soon saw that opposition was making him like adamant. She adopted a milder tone; she reminded him how all their hopes were centred in him, how he was their only son, and the only one who could take his father's place. Austin listened and tried to carry it off with a high hand, but he grew uncomfortable, and finally departed to bed without wishing his mother good-night. He rode off obstinately the next morning, and found Mrs. Norman waiting for him at the four cross-roads. The meet was not a great distance off, so they jogged slowly along the roads together. He confided to her that he had had a row with his mother the previous night. "She always has kept a tight hand on the reins in our household. My father is absolutely under her thumb, so she cannot understand my independence." "Mothers never can," said Mrs. Norman softly. "I sometimes wonder, if my boy had lived to grow up, whether I should have tried to manage him. I don't think I should. I have a great belief in men being placed in a right position. Young men must have freedom of thought and action; they can't be tied to their mothers' apron strings, if they're to be men at all. But we poor women can't understand it. Now let us enjoy our day. We won't think of disagreeable things." "Were you awfully tired yesterday?" "No; I had that poor old Major down to inquire after me. Don't glare so, you silly boy! He bored me to death. I couldn't get rid of him; he was so garrulous. But I do feel so intensely sorry for him. He is old and crippled, and seems to have so few pleasures." "He can't keep away from you, it seems," said Austin a trifle curtly. "I always notice that old men must have some woman as a recipient for all their egotistical reminiscences. You need not be jealous. I look upon him as a father—a grandfather, if you like. There's the horn! We must hurry up." At four o'clock that afternoon Sidney met Austin riding home. He stopped when he saw her, and dismounted.