Her son nuzzled his cheek against her hand; "Bless your dear heart! it frightens you, because you can't understand. Materna, there are several things you can't understand--and I shouldn't like it if you could!" he said, his face sobering with that reverent look which a man gives only to his mother; "There is the old human instinct, that existed before laws or morals or anything else, the man's instinct to keep his woman. And next to that, there is the realization that when it comes to what you call morals, there is a morality higher than the respectability you good people care so much about--the morality of nature. But of course you don't understand," he said again, with a short laugh. "I understand a good many things, David." "Oh, well, I didn't mean to talk about it," he said, sighing; "I don't know what started me; and--and I'm not howling, you know. I was only wondering whether _you_ thought she had come to care for him?" "I don't know," she said, faintly. He snapped his knife shut. "Neither do I. But I guess she does. Nature is a big thing, Materna. When a girl's loyalty comes up against that, it hasn't much show; especially when nature is assisted by behavior like mine. Yes, I guess by this time she loves him. I'll never get her." "Oh, David," his mother said, tremulously, "if you could only meet some nice, sweet girl, and--" "Nice girl?" he said, smiling. "They're scarce, Materna, they're scarce. But I mean to get married one of these days. A man in my trade ought to be married. I sha'n't bother to look for one of those 'sweet girls,' however. I've got over my fondness for sugar. No more sentimentalities for me, thank you. I shall marry on strictly common-sense principles: a good housekeeper, who has good sense, and good looks--" "And a good temper, I hope," Mrs. Richie said, almost with temper herself; and who can blame her?--he had been so cruelly injured! The sweetness, the silent, sunny honesty of the boy, the simple belief in the goodness of his fellow-creatures, had been changed to this! Oh, she could almost hate the girl who had done it! "A good temper is more important than anything else," she said, hotly. Instantly the dull cynicism of his face flashed into anger. "Elizabeth's temper,--I suppose that is what you are referring to; her temper was not responsible for what happened. It was my assinine conceit." She winced. "I didn't mean to hurt you," she said. He was silent. "But it is terrible to have you so hard, David." "Hard? I? I am a mush of amiability. Come now! I oughtn't to have made you low-spirited. It's all an old story. I was only telling you how I felt at first. As for bad thoughts,--I haven't any thoughts now, good or bad! I am a most exemplary person. I don't know why I slopped over to you, anyhow. So don't think of it again. Materna! Can you see that sail?" He was looking through his glasses; "it's the eleventh since we came out here." "But David, that you should think--"