"I should like nothing better. I don't know your boy yet except through his photographs and my having met his mother, but I'm very proud to know that my little girl is to bear a name that will always be honoured in this country." Dr. Guthrie blushed and bowed, and put his hand up to his tie nervously. It was a curious little meeting, this. All three parents were self-conscious and uncomfortable. They would have been antagonistic but for the very true human note that each recognized. They were all reminded of the unpleasant fact that they were in sight of a new and wide cross-road in their lives, along which they were presently to see two of their young people walking away together hand in hand. Parenthood has in it everything that is beautiful, but much that is disappointing and inevitable--much that brings pain and a sudden sense of loneliness. There was a very different ring in the conversation of Betty and Belle, who stood a few yards away surrounded by people of all the strange conglomerate nationalities which go to make up the population of the United States. Good-tempered, affectionate and excitable Hebrews were already shouting welcomes to their friends on the _Oceanic_, as the vessel drew slowly nearer. Temperamental Irish were alternately waving handkerchiefs and daubing their eyes with them, and others--of French, German, Dutch, Swedish, Norwegian, Russian and English extraction--were trying to discern the faces of those who were near and dear to them among the passengers who were leaning over the rails of the vessel. It was an animated and moving scene, very much more cheery than the ones which take place on the same spot when the great trans-Atlantic Liners slip out into the river. "Look!" cried Belle. "There's Nicholas. Isn't he absolutely and wonderfully English?" "And there's Peter!" said Betty, with a catch in her voice. "And isn't he splendidly American?" "Oh, I'm so excited I can hardly stand still. I've dreamed of this every night ever since we came home." "So have I. But this is better than dreams. Look! Peter has seen us. He's waving his hat. Even his hair seems to be sunburnt." Belle laughed, though her eyes were full of tears. "I can almost smell the violet stuff that Nicholas puts on his." Then there was the usual rush as the liner slid into her berth, and as Mrs. Guthrie was swept away with it, holding tight to Graham's arm, she said to herself: "He waved to Betty first. O God, make me brave!" All the same, it was the little mother to whom Peter went first as he came ashore, and he held her very tight, so that she could hardly breathe, and said: "Darling mum! How good to see you!" and there was something in that. The Doctor took his boy's big hand with less self-consciousness than usual. He wished that he might have had the pluck to kiss him on both cheeks and thus follow the excellent example of a little fat Frenchman who had nearly thrown him off his balance in his eagerness to welcome a thin, dark boy.