“Ah, mine leedle girl, learn vrom der schtars dot der great laws moost be opeyed, und don’t you vorry und vret ober vat you gannot help.  Shust you go along quiet und easy like Shupiter oup dere.  Lots off dings vill dry to bull dis vay and dot vay outen der right orpt, put dond you mind ’em, und shust go right schtrait along und not care.  You veels too mooch apout oder beoples.  Der schtars deach you petter; dey goes right on der own vay und about der own pisness, unless dey vas voolish leedle schtars, like dot von dere dots shust gone to der duyvel vrom runin outen his vay toward der earth.”

She might have reminded him that, if she had acted upon this cold and selfish philosophy, his little child would now be sleeping in a distant cemetery instead of in his warm crib, but she only said, “Good-night, Mr. Ulph; I’ll do better next time,” and she hurried away.  She felt that the sun and centre of their family life was passing under a strange and lasting eclipse, and the result might be darkness—­chaos.

She wiped her eyes carefully, that no traces of grief might appear, and then entered their room.  Her mother was putting the children to bed, and her father looking dreamily out of the window.  She kissed him, and said briefly, “I’m tired and think I will retire early so as to be ready for my work.”  He made no effort to detain her.  She clasped her mother in a momentary passionate embrace, and then shut herself up to a night of almost sleepless grief.

CHAPTER XXVI

WAXING AND WANING MANHOOD

Both Belle and Roger saw that Mildred had not been reassured by Mr. Jocelyn’s return and manner; and as they thought it over they found it difficult to account for his strangely varying moods.  After a rather lame effort to chat cheerily, Roger bad Belle good-night, and assured her that she now had a friend always within call.

His uncle’s modest residence was in a side street and not far away, but the young fellow walked for hours before applying his night-key to the door.  What he had seen and heard that day touched his heart’s core, and the influences that were so rapidly developing his manhood were greatly strengthened.  For Belle he now had a genuine liking and not a little respect.  He saw her foibles clearly, and understood that she was still more a child than a woman, and so should not be judged by the standards proper for those of mature age; but he also saw the foundations on which a noble womanhood might be built.  She inspired a sense of comradeship and honest friendliness which would easily deepen into fraternal love, but Mrs. Jocelyn’s surmise that she might some day touch that innermost spring which controls the entire man had no true basis.  Nor would there have been any possibility of this had he never seen Mildred.  A true man—­one governed by heart and mind, not passion—­meets many women whom he likes and admires exceedingly,