“You never made a bigger mistake.  I can tell you that.  But I want to know what John is up to—­sending you away for a whole year—­such nonsense!”

Then Harry made John’s proposal as attractive as he could, and Mrs. Hatton listened with a face devoid of all expression, until he said:  “I want you with me, mother.  I shall have no pleasure without you.”

“There is something else you want, Harry.  What is it?”

“Well, mother, there is a beautiful girl whom I love with all my heart and soul.  I want to take her with me, but I can not—­unless you also go.”

Mrs. Hatton’s face flushed, and she dropped her eyes, knowing that they were full of anger.  “Who is this girl?” she asked coldly.

“Lucy Lugur, the schoolmaster’s daughter.”

“Could you not take her own mother?”

“Lucy has no mother.  Her father has been father and mother both to her since she was two years old.  He loves her beyond everything.”

“I can believe that.  I know a little of Ralph Lugur.  He has been to see me twice about the children of the village.”

“He has them all at his beck and call.  And Lucy, mother, she is so fair and sweet!  If you could only see her!”

“I have seen her.”

“Oh, mother dear, don’t speak unkindly of her!”

“Nay; why should I?  She is, as you say, very pretty; and I’ll warrant she is as good as she is pretty.  I could trust Lugur to bring her up properly—­but she is not a mate for you.”

“I will have no other mate.”

“Miss Lugur may be all your fancy paints her, but why should your mother be asked to leave her home, her duties, and pleasures for a year?  To subject herself to bad weather and sickness and loneliness and fatigue of all kinds in order that she may throw the mantle of her social respectability over an equivocal situation.  I do not blame the girl, but I feel more keenly and bitterly than I can tell you the humiliation and discomfort you would gladly put upon me in order to give yourself the satisfaction of Miss Lugur’s company.  Harry, you are the most selfish creature I ever met.  John has promised to give up your rightful assistance in the mill, to really do your work for a year, your income is to be paid in full, though you won’t earn a farthing of it; you expect the use of the yacht for yourself and a girl out of my knowledge and beneath my social status.  Oh, Harry!  Harry!  It is too much to ask of any mother.”

“I never thought of it in this way.  Forgive me, mother.”

“And who is to take care of John if I go with you?  Who is to care for the old home and all the treasures gathered in it?  Who will look after the farm and the horses and cattle and poultry, the fruit-trees and lawns and flowers as I do?  Do you think that all these cares are pleasures to me?  No, my dear lad, but they are my duty.  I wouldn’t have thy father find out that I neglected even a brooding hen.  No, I wouldn’t.  And the yacht was thy father’s great pleasuring.  I only went with him to double that pleasure.  I don’t like the sea, though I never let him know it.  Oh, my dear!  But there!  You haven’t learned yet that self-sacrifice is love, and no love without it.”