A Fountain Sealed

Her mother was with her in the lamp-lit library and he guessed already that, in any case, Imogen, before her mother, would rarely show gaiety and playfulness. Gaiety and playfulness would seem to

he felt it dwell upon him like solemn eyes while he shook hands wi

olized Imogen's manner, Mrs. Upton's gravity could break into a smile quite undisturbed, apparently, by any inappropriateness. She sat near the lamp crocheting; soft, white wool sliding through her fingers and wave after wave of cloudy sub

to pass him on, in all she said, to Imogen, and Jack, once more, found his situation between them a little difficult, for if Mrs. Upton passed him on, Imogen was in no hurry

xt day and asked Imogen if he coul

mogen, "but I write to Ma

ds on my

e coming to

e is not to com

ked sharply, for her voice of sad accepta

ut mama does not feel that I

ough with, a veiled echo. She laid down her work; she looked at her daughter as though to prob

tempted lightness, "I hope

a has been so brave about it, and I don't want to put any burdens upon her, especially burdens that would be so uncongenial to her as dear, funny Mary

up her innocent work, preparato

not injured-Jack was trying to make it out-but full of a soft withdrawal.

id Mrs. Upton. And so she left t

ore. Apparently mama and papa, in their so different ways, have been very extravagant; and I, too, Jack, have been extravagant. I never knew that I mustn't be. The money was given to me as I asked for it-and there were so many, so many claims,-oh, I can't say that I'm sorry that it is gone as it went. 'But now that we are very poor, I want it to be my pleasures,

didn't care a penny for what his impression of her might be. Imogen might fit as many responsibilities upon her shoulders as she liked and, with her long training in a school of reticences and composures, she would remain placid and indifferent. So Jack worked it out, and he resented, for Imogen and for himself, such tact and such evasion. He wished that they had been more crude, more inappropri

re, her calmness now not the result of mast

e is trying, I do believe, to atone; she is trying to do her duty by making, as it were, une acte de présence; one wants to be very gentle with her; one doesn't want to make things more difficult than they must alre

oward the trivial little mother, Jack's inner emotion was pushed, suddenly, past all the bolts and barriers. Turning a little pale, he leaned forward and took h

t he felt himself unprepared for his own declaration. It wad Imogen's tranqui

a deep, a peaceful joy for a long time to feel that I was fi

less joyful or less peac

that I couldn't think o

you will think of me, as your f

you in any other way." And she went on, with her tranquil radiance of aspect, "I have

best bloom; but, feeling in her dispassionateness a hurt to his hope that it would best bl

, unconfused head. "No, only the real need could rightly choose, a

ws, but, hearing them fro

erful, for, leaning to him, she put for a moment her hand on his and said, smiling back with the tranquil tenderness: "Not yet, not qu

stomed place, saying that he must help her with her project for building a country home for her crippled children. She had la

impatience. "Mamma's dog," she said. "He can't find her

re," said Jack, who was full of a mild,

greediness as that?" Imogen asked, as the tiny griffon darted

perhaps, but

rk to be let out again. He is as arrogan

is a nice little beast-full of gratitude; see him lick

es," said Imogen. "Their very existence see

t, holding the griffon as he was, meeting its merry, yet melancholy, eyes, evading its affectionate, caressing leaps

e had come in while they spoke and her tone of kind, mi

holding out her p

to take care of him. He wa

e claims of either Tison or his mistress. He accused himself of a tendency to soften under her glance when it was so kindly and so consciously bent upon him. Her indifference

had gone back to her seat, taking up her work and passing her h

g his arms and leaning back against the table, while Imoge

ly," Mrs. Upton continued, smiling up at him, "one does

n's vague sweetness of regard was affecting him somewhat as her dog's caressing little tongue had done. "If a fondness is one we h

ect him of wishing to be taken seriously. "One doesn't r

we must reason about to ge

es, something loving, pretty, responsive-somethin

ts only use. And when I think, mama darling, of all the cold, hungry, unhappy children in this great town to-night,-of all the sufferi

, now asleep in a profound content,

o rigorous for the occasion. "Not that we want you t

ore. "It seems to me that there is a place for dear unreasonable things in the w

h, all our love and faith to deal with," Imogen returned,

nd I, Tison," Mrs. Upton said, "but I am t

she resumed all her lightness, her mildnes

up at her daughter: "Of course you must h

eace of mind was impossible to Imogen unless her conscience were clear of any cloud, and now the morning's humiliating fear was more than atoned for. She was not the woman to clutch at safety when pa

r, adjusted itself to a task of loving seve

nses. I never for a moment dreamed of your not ha

"Not your wish, mama? After w

we must be econo

othes-a reproof that I am very sure was well deserved; I should not have been so thoughtless. But it is not fair, mama, really it is not fair-you must see th

thout haste. Her mother sat with downcast eyes,

o be happy together we must be very true with each other. I want you always to say just what you mean, so that I may understand what you really want o

ly of the practical matter that they had begun with. "I do want you to have your f

you were hurt, displeased, by my inference from our talk this morning. You made me feel by your whole manner that you

ot nea

hat you reproached me with having, as

s like the movement of her own sleek needle, drawing loop after loop of wool into a pattern; but what Imogen's pattern was she could hardly tell. She abandoned the wish to make clear her own interpretation, lookin

o me by letting him see how very wrong it was! Jack's devotion is very clear-sighted. It's a devotion that, if it s

e young man," said Vale

ng their very conception of right on the altar of false maternal duty. The duty we owe to any one is our truth. There is no higher duty than that. Had I been as ungenerous, as unkind, as you, I'm afraid, imagined me this evening, it would still

er deepened color, here murmured that she, too, cared for the truth, but the current

hurt

lesh and blood? It was dreadful to me, your leavi

ted, "I'm sorry, dear," and, as if accepting con