As they stood together side by side it seemed, indeed, impossible that
this young man could be her son, far less the offspring of her middle
age. She smiled upon him sadly, patting his handsome cheek. "And is my
Richard so full-grown a man," said she, "as, to flatter, and not to
grant?" It was impossible to imagine a more winsome voice, or a more
tender tone.

"Nay, mother; I will promise, if you please," said the young fellow,
kissing her. "And now, let us divide this Crompton spoil together." He
pulled out his purse, and counted the contents. "There is Carew's three
hundred, a few pounds I won at pool, and dull Jack's IOU for
twenty--worth, perhaps, five. Come, we two are partners in the game of
life, you know, and must share alike."

"No, Dick, no," returned his mother, tenderly; "it is enough for me to
see you win." She shut the purse, and forced it back into his unwilling
hand. "Some day, I trust, you will sweep away a great stake--though not
as you gained this."

"Ah, you mean an heiress! You think that every woman must needs fall in
love with me, because _you_ have done so, mother."

His rage and bitterness had vanished, as though by magic; her tone and
touch had spirited them away.

"Perhaps I do, dear. Go to bed, and dream of one. You must be very
tired. I ought not to say that I am glad to see you back, Dick; yet how
can I help it?"