"Yes, it would. I should make a detestable mother-in-law. Gordon gets his clear-headedness from me, and I know my own faults. I shouldn't be jealous, but I should wish her to do things in my way, and she would wish to do them in hers, so we should clash. I wouldn't risk it. But I'd be willing to die to-morrow and never to kiss my grandchildren if only he had a good wife. I should be very particular, though." "I should think so. I hope with all my heart that he may meet a woman worthy of him." Constance was a little surprised by her own fervor. Expressed in sound it seemed to her almost familiar. Then, without knowing why, she sighed. Was it because she painfully recalled that marriage was a lottery? Mrs. Perry evidently ascribed the sigh to that source, for after regarding her a moment, she said softly, "It was easier for me than it is for you. When I lost my husband we were very happy. You are left alone. You see my son has told me your story." "I am glad that you should know." "But you are young, my dear. Young and a charming looking, lovable woman. The right man may come along. Who knows?" Constance stared at her in astonishment. "My husband is not dead," she said, a little formally. "Yes, I know. He deserted you." "But he is alive." "Gordon told me that you had not been divorced." "I have never thought of such a thing." "You know where he is?" "I have not seen him or heard from him since the day he left me nearly three years ago." "Precisely." "He is the father of my children, however."