constrained voice. "I have not yet seen the woman whom I wish to
make my wife."

Then a singular expression crossed Mrs. Herrick's face.

"I am sorry to hear that, Malcolm; I would have willingly given you
up to a wife, but life in chambers seems to me so Bohemian."

"It is only an idea," he returned impatiently. "Mother dear, try to
believe that I am doing it for the best--for both our sakes. I am
not leaving you alone--you have Anna; and in spite of all your
kindness to me, I am well aware that I have never been any real help
or comfort; if I thought you needed me--that you relied on me for
assistance or protection--I would never have carved out this
independent life."

"It is the spirit of the age," she returned a little bitterly; "it
is the children who make terms, and the parents who have to yield
and submit."

"That is an old argument, mother," replied Malcolm wearily; "how
often we have gone over that ground, you and I. When our wills have
clashed it seems to me the concessions have all been on my side. How
many men of my age do you suppose would have yielded to you in the
matter of a latch-key? Poor old Anderson has been the chief
sufferer, and the victim of your strictness; do you think it has not
troubled me to keep him up night after night?"

"Anderson is my servant, and has to do his duty," replied Mrs.
Herrick rather stiffly.