CHAPTER XLV

MOTHER AND SON

Our story passes rapidly over the events of the ensuing months.  In his native mountain air, and under the impulse of his strong, unbroken constitution, Roger recovered rapidly and steadily.  As soon as he was strong enough he went to the village cemetery, and, leaning his head on Belle’s grave, sobbed until Mildred led him away.  For a long time tears would come into his eyes whenever the names of Mrs. Jocelyn and the young girl he loved so fondly were mentioned.  He and Mildred planted the sacred place thick with roses and spring-flowering bulbs.

Mildred resisted all entreaties to remain in the country, saying that she was a city girl at heart, and that, with Mr. Wentworth’s aid, she could easily earn her livelihood in town, and do much for Fred and Minnie.  Moreover, she felt that she could not be parted from Roger, for seemingly he had become an inseparable part of her life.  The experiences he had shared with her were developing within him a strong and noble manhood, and he vowed that the young girl who had known so much sorrow should have all the happiness that he could bring to pass.

When Mrs. Wheaton learned of Mildred’s purpose to return to town, she took more commodious apartments in the old mansion, and set apart a room for the young girl.  She also sold most of her own things and took Mildred’s furniture out of storage, so that the place might seem familiar and homelike to her friend.

When Roger had almost recovered his wonted health, Mrs. Atwood told her husband that he must go with her to visit his brother in town, for the worthy woman had a project on her mind which she carried out with characteristic directness and simplicity.

They surprised Mr. and Mrs. Ezra Atwood at breakfast, and partook of the cheer offered them rather grimly and silently.  After the meal was over Roger’s mother said, without any circumlocution: 

“Brother-in-law, I’ve come to have a plain, honest talk with you, and if you’re a true Atwood you’ll listen to me.  I want your wife and my husband to be present.  We are nigh of kin, but we are forgetting ties which the Lord hath ordained.  Ezra, I believe you are a good man at heart, but, like my husband, you set too much store by things that perish in the using.  My boy has taught me that there are better things in this world, and we’ll all soon be where we may look on money as a curse.  You have not spoken to my son since last spring, and you’ve been cold toward us.  I want you to know the truth, and realize what you’re doing; then if you go on in this way, you must settle it with your own conscience;” and with a homely pathos all her own she told the whole story.