Geoffrey's letter did not have the effect upon his mother of a rebuff. At any rate she had no emotion of mortification or wounded self-esteem when she read it. She felt as if she had tried to bridge the chasm between the living and the dead and failed. Geoffrey had passed out of her life as irrevocably as Richard. She shivered for a moment in the chill of age and wondered how she should occupy herself for the remainder of her life. So long as Jemmie had been alive she had always had somebody who wanted her solicitude, but now that Jemmie was dead nobody seemed to want her. Yes, she ought to have behaved differently ten years ago. She ought not to have let the loss of Richard embitter her like that. It was her own fault that Geoffrey and his wife wanted to live their life apart from her. She could leave money to her grandchild. That was something. It was thoughtful of Jemmie not to attempt to say what was to be done with his money. Her own, of which he had always had complete control, naturally remained her own. It was to be hoped that Muriel would soon be cured of this Socialistic craze. She did not want to have her money spent upon furthering the schemes of faddists. Jemmie would have hated that. Jemmie was always so normal and sensible. If he did have that temporary infatuation, it was her own fault. Twenty years ago she had neglected him, and he had sought consolation elsewhere. Ten years ago she had neglected Geoffrey, and he too had found consolation elsewhere. Before it was too late she must make an effort to understand and sympathize with Muriel. She had perhaps been too ready to believe that the shyness and awkwardness of Muriel's youth sprang from a natural lack of affection. Not that Muriel was so very young nowadays; but the rift had begun when she was still a schoolgirl, and all rifts tended to widen with time. "Dear child, I wish you'd tell me something about the various movements in which you're interested. I daresay I've been stupidly conservative in my attitude. You know, everything has changed very much during the last ten years. You'll have to be patient with people like me who were brought up to think that Queen Victoria always had been reigning and always would be reigning." Muriel stared at her mother from those candid blue eyes of hers. "It's rather difficult to explain suddenly in a few words the culmination of centuries of human thought," she said. Mary laughed. "You mustn't snub me like that, Muriel, unless you want me to remain hidebound by my own prejudices and conventions." "But, Mother, it isn't really worth while for you to believe in what I believe. You must be young to believe it. You must believe that before you die you'll see your dreams brought to pass." "Am I so old then?" "You haven't forty years of activity before you. I'm not being very discouraging when I say that." "Have you forty years before you, dear child?" "I hope so."