I REACHED my own house in time to snatch two or three hours ofrepose, before I paid my customary morning visit to my mother inher own room. I observed, in her reception of me on thisoccasion, certain peculiarities of look and manner which were farfrom being familiar in my experience of her.

When our eyes first met, she regarded me with a wistful,questioning look, as if she were troubled by some doubt which sheshrunk from expressing in words. And when I inquired after herhealth, as usual, she surprised me by answering as impatiently asif she resented my having mentioned the subject. For a moment, Iwas inclined to think these changes signified that she haddiscovered my absence from home during the night, and that shehad some suspicion of the true cause of it. But she neveralluded, even in the most distant manner, to Mrs. Van Brandt; andnot a word dropped from her lips which implied, directly orindirectly, that I had pained or disappointed her. I could onlyconclude that she had something important to say in relation toherself or to me--and that for reasons of her own she unwillinglyabstained from giving expression to it at that time.

Reverting to our ordinary topics of conversation, we touched onthe subject (always interesting to my mother) of my visit toShetland. Speaking of this, we naturally spoke also of MissDunross. Here, again, when I least expected it, there was anothersurprise in store for me.

"You were talking the other day," said my mother, "of the greenflag which poor Dermody's daughter worked for you, when you wereboth children. Have you really kept it all this time?"

"Yes."

"Where have you left it? In Scotland?"

"I have brought it with me to London."

"Why?"

"I promised Miss Dunross to take the green flag with me, whereverI might go."

My mother smiled.

"Is it possible, George, that you think about this as the younglady in Shetland thinks? After all the years that have passed,you believe in the green flag being the means of bringing MaryDermody and yourself together again?"

"Certainly not! I am only humoring one of the fancies of poorMiss Dunross. Could I refuse to grant her trifling request, afterall I owed to her kindness?"

The smile left my mother's face. She looked at me attentively.

"Miss Dunross seems to have produced a very favorable impressionon you," she said.

"I own it. I feel deeply interested in her."

"If she had not been an incurable invalid, George, I too mighthave become interested in Miss Dunross--perhaps in the characterof my daughter-in-law?"

"It is useless, mother, to speculate on what _might_ havehappened. The sad reality is enough."

My mother paused a little before she put her next question to me.

"Did Miss Dunross always keep her veil drawn in yourpresence, when there happened to be light in the room?"

"Always."

"She never even let you catch a momentary glance at her face?"

"Never."

"And the only reason she gave you was that the light caused her apainful sensation if it fell on her uncovered skin?"

"You say that, mother, as if you doubt whether Miss Dunross toldme the truth."

"No, George. I only doubt whether she told you _all_ the truth."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't be offended, my dear. I believe Miss Dunross has some moreserious reason for keeping her face hidden than the reason thatshe gave _you_."

I was silent. The suspicion which those words implied had neveroccurred to my mind. I had read in medical books of cases ofmorbid nervous sensitiveness exactly similar to the case of MissDunross, as described by herself--and that had been enough forme. Now that my mother's idea had found its way from her mind tomine, the impression produced on me was painful in the lastdegree. Horrible imaginings of deformity possessed my brain, andprofaned all that was purest and dearest in my recollections ofMiss Dunross. It was useless to change the subject--the evilinfluence that was on me was too potent to be charmed away bytalk. Making the best excuse that I could think of for leaving mymother's room, I hurried away to seek a refuge from myself, wherealone I could hope to find it, in the presence of Mrs. VanBrandt.