I was stunned by the letter.  I had never contemplated the possibility of Dicky’s mother living with us, and here she was calmly inviting herself to make her home with us.  For years she had made her home with her childless daughter and namesake, Harriet, whose husband was one of the most brilliant surgeons of the middle West.

I knew that Dicky’s mother and sister had spoiled him terribly when they all had a home together before Dicky’s father died.  The first thought that came to me was that Dicky’s whims alone were hard enough to humor, but when I had both him and his mother to consider our home life would hardly be worth the living.

I knew and resented also the fact that Dicky’s mother and sisters disapproved of his marriage to me.  In one of Dicky’s careless confidences I had gleaned that his mother’s choice for him had been made long ago, and that he had disappointed her by not marrying a friend of his sister.

I felt as if I were in a trap.  To have to live and treat with daughterly deference a woman who I knew so disliked me that she refused to attend her son’s wedding was unthinkable.

“Well!”

In Dicky’s voice was a note of doubt as he held out his hand for his mother’s letter.  I knew that he was anxiously awaiting my decision as to the proposition it contained, and I hastened to reassure him.

“Of course there is but one thing to be done,” I said, trying hard to make my tone cordial.

“And that is?” Dicky looked at me curiously.  Was it possible that he did not understand my meaning?

“Why, you must wire her at once to come to us.  Be sure you tell her that she will be most welcome.”

I felt a trifle ashamed that the welcoming words were such a sham from my lips.  Dicky’s mother was distinctly not welcome as far as I was concerned.  But my thoughts flew swiftly back to my own little mother, gone forever from me.  Suppose she were the one who needed a home?  How would I like to have Dicky’s secret thoughts about her welcome the same as mine were now?

“That’s awfully good of you, Madge.”  Dicky’s voice brought me back from my reverie.  “Of course I know you are not particularly keen about her coming.  That wouldn’t be natural, but it’s bully of you to pretend just the same.”

I opened my mouth to protest, and then thought better of it.  There was no use trying to deceive Dicky.  If he was satisfied with my attitude toward his mother, that was all that was necessary.

I poured myself another cup of coffee, when Dicky had gone to the studio, drank it mechanically, and touched the bell for Katie to clear away the breakfast things.

I did not try to disguise to myself the fact that I was extremely miserable.  The day at Marvin, on which I had so counted, had been a disappointment to me on account of the attention Dicky had paid to Miss Draper.  I reflected bitterly that I might just as well have spent the afternoon with Mrs. Smith of the Lotus Club, discussing the history course which she wished me to undertake for the club.