Mrs. Gregg was eating the pound-cake with such extreme relish that Mrs. Anderson, who was herself fastidious, looked away, and as she did so heard distinctly a smack of the other woman's lips. "He grows handsomer and younger every time I see him," remarked Mrs. Gregg when she had swallowed her mouthful of cake and before she took another. Mrs. Anderson repeated the caller's compliment to her son later on when the two were at the supper-table. "Yes, she paid you a great compliment," said she; "but, dear, why did you run out in that way? It was almost rude, and she the minister's wife, too." "I don't see how Dr. Gregg keeps up his necessary quota of saving grace, living with her," said Anderson. "Why, my dear, I think she is a good woman." "She is a bottled-up vessel of wrath," said Anderson. "My son, I never heard you speak so before, and about a lady, too." Anderson fairly blushed before his mother's mild eyes of surprise. "Mother, you are right," he said, penitently. "I ought to be ashamed of myself, and I am. I know I was rude, but I did not feel like seeing her to-day. Of course she is a good woman." Mrs. Anderson looked a little reflective. Now that her son had taken a proper attitude with regard to her sister-woman, she began to feel a little critical license herself. "I will admit that she has little mannerisms which are not exactly agreeable and must grate on Dr. Gregg," said she. As she spoke she seemed to hear again the smacking of the lips over the pound-cake. Then she looked scrutinizingly at her son. "But," she said, "I do believe she was right, Randolph, about your looks." "Nonsense," said Randolph, laughing. It was a warm night. After supper they both went out on the front porch. Mrs. Anderson sat gazing at her son from between the folds of a little, white lace kerchief which she wore over her head, to guard against possible dampness. "Randolph," said she, after a while. "What is it, mother, dear?" "Do you feel well?" "Of course I feel well. Why?" "You look too well to be natural," said she, slowly. "Mother, what an absurdity!" "It is so," said she. "I had not noticed it until Mrs. Gregg spoke, but I see it now. I don't know where my eyes have been. You look too well." Randolph laughed. "Now, mother, don't you think that sounds foolish?" Mrs. Anderson continued to regard him with an expression of maternal love and severity, which pierced externals more keenly than an X-ray. "No," said she, "I do not think it is foolish. You look too well to be natural. You look this minute as young in your face as you did when I had you in petticoats." Randolph laughed loudly at that, but his mother was quite earnest.