She had hoarded every penny of this money. With it she
meant to pay her expenses in Europe and to support George
in his year at Oxford. The work and the salary were
to go on while she was gone.

It was easy enough to hide all of these things from her
son while he was in Cambridge and she in Delaware. But
now? What if he should find out that his mother was the
Quigg" of the New York ----, a paper which he declared to
be unfit for a gentleman to read?

She was looking out to sea and thinking of this when her
cousin, Miss Vance, came up to her. Miss Vance was a
fashionable teacher in New York, who was going to spend
a year abroad with two wealthy pupils. She was a thin
woman, quietly dressed; white hair and black brows, with
gold eye-glasses bridging an aquiline nose, gave her a
commanding, inquisitorial air.

"Well, Frances!" she began briskly, "I have not had time
before to attend to you. Are your bags hung in your
stateroom?"

"I haven't been down yet," said Mrs. Waldeaux meekly.
"We were watching the fog in the sun."

"Fog! Mercy on me! You know you may be ill any minute,
and your room not ready! Of course, you did not take
the bromides that I sent you a week ago?