didn't trust a girl like Florimel. His impression of her was, from the few times he had noticed her, that she was ready with her smiles and her sly eyes to make up to any lad who would notice her. He hadn't liked her type, and he had never joked with her when she waited upon him at the pie shop as some of the rest of the fellows did. But surely, surely , Rex, with his fine upbringing, his high ideals, and his love for mother and sisters, would never get in the toils of a girl like that! It couldn't be.
But yet as he talked on, passing time, trying in some other way to account for Rex's strange behavior, the idea of Florimel kept gnawing like some little beast of prey in the back of his mind and worrying him to the last degree. Florimel and Rex! What an impossible combination! How were they ever to endure, if it was true?
The hour was growing late, and Fae, curled up on the floor beside her mother's couch, was almost asleep. Sylvia, under the big lamp, was hemstitching a handkerchief that was to be one of her Christmas gifts for an aunt up in New York. She wore a dejected look. Stan was sitting over by the front window where he could watch the drive and see the first minute a car turned into it. Stan was looking suddenly grown up and as if he were carrying great burdens. He hadn't even brightened up much at the very elaborate account of the basketball game in Buffalo, in which Rex had starred so wonderfully. Paul had made the account last as long as possible, but he realized as he went on that perhaps he was only succeeding in making them see Rex in all his best lights and filling them with terror at the thought of what he had done.
And then as he paused, trying to get a different topic, thinking perhaps he would tell them about his own successes and turn their thoughts away from Rex a little while, the mother spoke out of a great sorrowful silence.
"What kind of a girl is this Florimel? You didn't mean she was not respectable, did you, Paul?"
Paul turned and realized that his mother had not been blinded by his silence. Her mind had caught the worst possible construction and turned it over in her thoughts.
"Mother!" he said distractedly. "You mustn't get such ideas. I just spoke of that girl because I wanted to show you there wasn't anyone there that Rex could possibly get entangled with. No girls except visiting ones at dances. No, I don't think she is not respectable. Just silly, perhaps. She may not even be that. I truly don't know much about her. It isn't, of course, a nice position for a girl in a college town, to be a waitress in a pie shop where the fellows go, but for all I know, she's perfectly respectable. Mother, you simply must forget about her. If this is true about Rex, which I'm not at all sure it is, then it's probably something perfectly all right. That is, as right as it could be to marry any one at his age. So please try not to think it out and torture yourself anymore. Now, why won't you all go to bed and rest? Rex ought to be here in a very short time now; that is, if he isn't held up by a flat tire or something like that. Or, it may be he finds it necessary to stay all night with the fellow who brought him."
"In which case, of course, he ought to telephone me," said Mary Garland sadly. "No, Paul, I've had three days to think this thing over carefully, and I'm satisfied there is something absolutely wrong about it all. Something that perhaps Rex is ashamed of, and he is afraid to come home after what I said to him about his classes not being important now. I'm afraid I let him see too clearly how I felt about what he had done. Perhaps he has decided not to come home at all."
"Nonsense!" said Paul sharply. "How could he? Mother, he hasn't got any money to hang around anywhere. I know that for a fact because Rex borrowed ten dollars from me before he started for Buffalo, so he can't be very flush. He wanted more, but I couldn't spare it."
"Oh!" moaned the mother and lay very still with her hand
But yet as he talked on, passing time, trying in some other way to account for Rex's strange behavior, the idea of Florimel kept gnawing like some little beast of prey in the back of his mind and worrying him to the last degree. Florimel and Rex! What an impossible combination! How were they ever to endure, if it was true?
The hour was growing late, and Fae, curled up on the floor beside her mother's couch, was almost asleep. Sylvia, under the big lamp, was hemstitching a handkerchief that was to be one of her Christmas gifts for an aunt up in New York. She wore a dejected look. Stan was sitting over by the front window where he could watch the drive and see the first minute a car turned into it. Stan was looking suddenly grown up and as if he were carrying great burdens. He hadn't even brightened up much at the very elaborate account of the basketball game in Buffalo, in which Rex had starred so wonderfully. Paul had made the account last as long as possible, but he realized as he went on that perhaps he was only succeeding in making them see Rex in all his best lights and filling them with terror at the thought of what he had done.
And then as he paused, trying to get a different topic, thinking perhaps he would tell them about his own successes and turn their thoughts away from Rex a little while, the mother spoke out of a great sorrowful silence.
"What kind of a girl is this Florimel? You didn't mean she was not respectable, did you, Paul?"
Paul turned and realized that his mother had not been blinded by his silence. Her mind had caught the worst possible construction and turned it over in her thoughts.
"Mother!" he said distractedly. "You mustn't get such ideas. I just spoke of that girl because I wanted to show you there wasn't anyone there that Rex could possibly get entangled with. No girls except visiting ones at dances. No, I don't think she is not respectable. Just silly, perhaps. She may not even be that. I truly don't know much about her. It isn't, of course, a nice position for a girl in a college town, to be a waitress in a pie shop where the fellows go, but for all I know, she's perfectly respectable. Mother, you simply must forget about her. If this is true about Rex, which I'm not at all sure it is, then it's probably something perfectly all right. That is, as right as it could be to marry any one at his age. So please try not to think it out and torture yourself anymore. Now, why won't you all go to bed and rest? Rex ought to be here in a very short time now; that is, if he isn't held up by a flat tire or something like that. Or, it may be he finds it necessary to stay all night with the fellow who brought him."
"In which case, of course, he ought to telephone me," said Mary Garland sadly. "No, Paul, I've had three days to think this thing over carefully, and I'm satisfied there is something absolutely wrong about it all. Something that perhaps Rex is ashamed of, and he is afraid to come home after what I said to him about his classes not being important now. I'm afraid I let him see too clearly how I felt about what he had done. Perhaps he has decided not to come home at all."
"Nonsense!" said Paul sharply. "How could he? Mother, he hasn't got any money to hang around anywhere. I know that for a fact because Rex borrowed ten dollars from me before he started for Buffalo, so he can't be very flush. He wanted more, but I couldn't spare it."
"Oh!" moaned the mother and lay very still with her hand
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