of will and the greatest watchfulness to subdue.

And so, when her son, replying to her earnest warning, said, "I am
in no danger. Set your heart at rest," she knew better--knew that a
deadly serpent was in the path he was treading. And she answered him
with increasing earnestness:

"The danger may be far greater than you imagine, Ellis. It _is_
greater than you imagine."

Her voice changed as she uttered the last sentence into a tone that
was almost solemn.

"You are talking wildly," returned the young man, "and pay but a
poor compliment to your son's character and strength of will. In
danger of becoming a sot!--for that is what you mean. If you were
not my mother, I should be angry beyond self-control."

"Ellis," said Mrs. Whitford, laying her hand upon the arm of her son
and speaking with slow impressiveness, "I am older than you are by
nearly thirty years, have seen more of life than you have, _and know
some things that you do not know._ I have your welfare at heart more
deeply than any other being except God. I know you better in some
things than you know yourself. Love makes me clear-seeing. And this
is why I am in such earnest with you to-night. Ellis, I want a
promise from you. I ask it in the name of all that is dearest to
you--in my name--in the name of Blanche--in the name of God!"

All the color had, gone out of Mrs. Whitford's face, and she stood
trembling before her son.