His mother shook her head absently.  “Then there was Mr. Evringham’s younger son, a regular roving ne’er-do-well.  He didn’t like Wall Street and he went West to Chicago.  He was a rolling stone, first in one position and then in another; then he got married, and after a few years he rolled away altogether.  All Mr. Evringham knows about him and his family is that he had one child.  Harry wrote a few letters about his wife Julia and the baby, at the time it was born, and Mr. Evringham sent a present of money; then the letters ceased until one day the wife wrote him frantically that her husband had disappeared and begged to know where he was.  Mr. Evringham knew nothing about him and wrote her so, and that is the last he’s heard.  So you see if he looks cold and hard, he’s had enough to make him so.”

“H’m!” ejaculated ‘Zekiel.  “He don’t give the impression of lyin’ awake nights wondering how his deserted daughter-in-law and the kid make out.”

“Why should he?” retorted Mrs. Forbes sharply.  “His two boys acted as selfish to him as boys could.  He’s a disappointed, humiliated man in that proud heart of his.  He’s been hunted out and harrowed up in this peaceful retreat, when all he asked was to be let alone with his horses and his golf clubs, and I think one daughter-in-law’s enough under the circumstances.  I have some respect for Mrs. Harry, whoever she is, because she lets him alone.  In all the long years we’ve spent here, when he often had no one to talk to but me, he’s let me have a glimpse of these things, and I’ve told you so’s you’d think right about him and serve him all the better.”

“He’s got a look in his eyes like cold steel,” remarked Ezekiel, “and lines under ’em like they’d been drawn with steel; and his back’s as flat and straight as if a steel rod took the place of a spine.  That thick gray hair and mustache of his might be steel threads.”

“He’s a splendid sight on horseback,” responded Mrs. Forbes devoutly.  “His sons were neither of ’em ever the man he is.  I’d like to protect him from being imposed upon if such a thing was possible.”

“Sho!” drawled ’Zekiel.  “Might’s well talk about protecting a battleship.”

“Well, ’Zekiel Forbes,” returned his mother, her eyes bright, “can’t you imagine a battleship hesitating to run down a little pleasure yacht with all its flags flying?  And can’t you imagine that hesitation costing the battleship considerable precious time and money?  You’ve said a good deal about my sacrificing my room in the house and coming out here to fix a little home for us both, upstairs in the barn chambers, but perhaps you can see now that it isn’t all sacrifice, that perhaps I’m glad of an excuse to get out of the house, where things are so different from what they used to be, and to have a cosy home with my own boy.  Now then, ’Zekiel,” coaxingly, these words recalling her boy’s responsibilities, “look over there once more and tell me which of those is the spider.”