She wallowed for a time in the thought of Capes, unable to escape from his image and the idea of his presence in her life. Why? While the front of his mind was busy warning her not to fall into the hopeless miseries of underpaid teaching, and explaining his idea that for women of initiative, quite as much as for men, the world of business had by far the best chances, the back chambers of his brain were busy with the problem of that “Why?” His first idea as a man of the world was to explain her unrest by a lover, some secret or forbidden or impossible lover. Cowering in a corner upon a heap of straw sat his unfortunate mother, the complete wreck of what she had been. She infused menace into her voice. Under her feet lay intricate mosaics, and each warm hall was festooned in tapestries. He seemed resigned but cheerful, and held frequent and serious discourses with the ordinary, who felt satisfied of his sincere penitence. "Ha!" he exclaimed, with a sudden start, as his glance fell upon the portrait; "how came this into your possession, boy?" "Why don't you answer, sirrah?" cried Wild, in a savage tone, and striking him with the silver staff. ‘I’m taking you to Gerald, my girl. No; the future was not so dark; there was a bit of dawn visible. But for me it doesn’t matter.
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