“You can tell your little story to other people, and when you have won a fortune on it, why, I’ll be around for my share, as, whatever my doubts in other directions, I have not the slightest doubt that you are my mother, and therefore bound to support me.  But, for the present, if you please, I’ll go by the old name of LaGrange.  It’s a name that suits me very well yet, even though,” and a strange look flashed at her from his dark eyes, “even though it may be only a borrowed one,” and the door closed, for the last time, between mother and son.

A low moan escaped from the lips of the unhappy woman.  “My son — the only living being of my flesh and blood — even he has turned against me!” Too proud to recall him, however, she sank exhausted upon a couch, and, burying her face in her hands, wept bitterly for the first and only time in her remembrance.

Meanwhile, the guests of Fair Oaks, having returned from the funeral, had assembled in the large library below, and were engaged in animated discussion regarding the disposition to be made of the property.  Ralph Mainwaring and Mr. Thornton, with pencils and paper, were computing stocks and bonds, and estimating how much of a margin would be left after the purchase of the old Mainwaring estate, which they had heard could be bought at a comparatively low figure, the present owner being somewhat embarrassed financially; while Mrs. Mainwaring was making a careful inventory of the furniture, paintings, and bric-a-brac at Fair Oaks, with a view of ascertaining whether there were any articles which she would care to retain for their future home.

Mr. Whitney, who, as a bachelor and an intimate friend of Hugh Mainwaring’s, as well as his legal adviser, had perhaps more than any one else enjoyed the hospitality of his beautiful suburban home, found the conversation extremely distasteful, and, having furnished whatever information was desired, excused himself and left the room.  As he sauntered out upon the broad veranda, he was surprised to see Miss Carleton, who had made her escape through one of the long windows, and who looked decidedly bored.

“It’s perfectly beastly!  Don’t you think so?” she exclaimed, looking frankly into his face, as if sure of sympathy.

She had so nearly expressed his own feelings that he flushed slightly, as he replied, with a smile, “It looks rather peculiar to an outsider, but I suppose it is only natural.”

“It is natural for them,” she replied, with emphasis.

“I did not intend to be personal; I meant human nature generally.”

“I have too much respect for human nature generally to believe it as selfish and as mercenary as that.  I have learned one lesson, however.  I will never leave my property to my friends, hoping by so doing to be held in loving remembrance.  It would be the surest way to make them forget me.”

“Has your experience of the last few days made you so cynical as that?” the attorney inquired, again smiling into the bright, fair face beside him.