The Lambert girls—­the pretty twins and the younger, slim slip of a lassie, Elinor—­were charming, fresh, natural, unspoiled, very different from and far more to his taste than most of the young women who came to Crest House—­hot-house products, over-sophisticated, cynical, too familiar with rouge and cigarettes and the game of love and lure, huntresses more or less, the whole pack of them.  It seemed girls could still be plain girls on this enchanted Hill—­girls who would make wonderful wives some day for some lucky men.

But the mother!  She was the secret of it all, quite as remarkable as Carlotta had said.  She was extraordinarily well read, talked well on a dozen subjects as to which he was himself but vaguely informed, and she was evidently even more extraordinarily busy.  There was talk of a Better Babies movement in which she was interested, of a Red Cross Chapter at which she had spent the afternoon, of a committee meeting of the local Woman’s Club which was bringing a noted English poet-lecturer to town.  There were Chatauqua plans in view, and a new children’s reading room in the public library with a story-telling hour of which Clare was to be in charge.  A hundred things indicated that Mrs. Lambert was by no means confined to the four walls of her home for interests and activities.  Yet her home was exquisitely kept and she was a mother first of all.  One could see that every moment.  It was “Mums, this” and “Mums, that” from them all.  The life of the home clearly pivoted about her.

Harrison Cressy found himself wishing that Carlotta could have known a motherhood like that.  Rose had gone so soon.  Carlotta had never known what she missed.  Perhaps Mr. Cressy himself had not known until he saw Mrs. Lambert and realized what a mother might be.  Poor Carlotta!  He had given her a great deal.  At least, until this, afternoon, he had thought he had.  But he had never given her anything at all comparable to what this quiet village store-keeper and his wife had given to their son and daughters.  He hadn’t had it to give.  He had been poor, after all, all along.  Though he hadn’t suspected it until now.

After supper Stuart Lambert had slipped quickly away, bidding his son stay up on the Hill a little longer with their guest.  Phil had demurred, but had been quietly overruled and had acquiesced perforce.  Poor Dad!  There had not been a moment all day to relieve his mind about Mr. Cressy’s offer.  Not once had the father and son been alone.  Phil was afraid his father was taking the thing a good deal to heart, and it worried him.  He had counted on talking it over together as they went back to the store but his father had willed otherwise.

It was with Carlotta’s father instead of his own that Philip talked first after all.