"I shouldn't think you'd say anything against Tessibel Skinner," was what he said at last, "considering what she did for us."

Mrs. Graves uttered a scream, and covered her face with her hands.

"Now throw that in my face, will you?" she cried. "Can't you let me forget my shame and disgrace? Can't you see that girl coming into my life would bring constantly before me my daughter's downfall and death?"

Her voice was tragic, and Frederick's heart always had been tender toward his mother. He saw as vividly as if it had happened but yesterday Teola dying in the church. It had been such a dreadful experience for all of them. Frederick had never doubted for one moment that that terrible ordeal had been the cause of his father's death. He went quickly forward and slipped one arm about her shoulders.

"I'm sorry, mater," he murmured. "There, forgive me!--There!--Don't cry!... Now don't get nervous--the doctor said you mustn't cry."

Mrs. Graves shivered in the strong arms.

"I've reason enough to cry," she whimpered brokenly. "You won't do anything to help me, and you're the one who should."

"I'll go to work," he said eagerly. He sat down on the edge of the bed. "I'm tired of college anyway!"

"Go to work!" echoed his mother. "What could you do? You wouldn't get ten dollars a week. Nor anything like it. You haven't any profession, and what is there in Ithaca to do anyway?... Oh, if your father'd only lived!"

She broke into a fresh burst of tears.

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"Hush, please, dear," said Frederick, smoothing back the grey hair. "Go on and tell me what you want. There, see, now, I'm listening."

Mrs. Graves used her handkerchief vigorously.

"I said I wanted you to marry Madelene Waldstricker," she responded in ruffled tones. "You've but to ask her, and she'll jump. Babe says she talks of you all the time, and is frightfully jealous of you."

A fair, lovely face, glorious glistening brown eyes, and shrouding red curls passed between Frederick's vision and his mother's face, and he groaned.

"Don't! I said not to talk of Tess."

"But I can't help it," snapped Mrs. Graves. "I've got to tell you about Madelene, haven't I? You must ask her now.... She's staying here tonight."

Frederick withdrew his arms from under his mother and dropped his face hopelessly into his hands.

"Oh, God, help me!" he groaned between his fingers. "I can't do that, Mother! I can't!"

A tender hand went out slowly and touched him. He lifted his face with a sharp gesture and grasped his mother's fingers in his.

"Don't ask me to do that, oh, don't, darling mater, don't!" he moaned. "Anything else--I'd do anything else."




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