"She said," my husband went on, "that she is very happy in our marriage,
completely satisfied, and that she has come to be proud of you. I don't
know how to tell you just what that means."

I knew. I knew his mother could have given me no higher praise. I had
learned what to her were the essentials; I had cultivated the manner she
placed above price. But the realization brought self-distrust. Had I
lost my honesty and sincerity?

Tom went on to tell me that his mother had particularly admired my
attitude toward my own mother, and the manner in which I met every
little failing of hers. She felt I had a sense of true values in
people, and that the simplicity and sureness with which I had met this
situation was the essence of good breeding.

I had not thought it possible that Tom's mother could understand my
feeling for my mother and my honest pride in her real worth. Perhaps,
I reflected, I had been unjust to my mother-in-law. I knew what a shock
I had been to her in the early days of our marriage, and I knew only too
well that even Tom had often regretted my ignorance of social usages.

They are simple customs, and should be taught in every school in
America, but I had not learned them. I was happy that night and for
days afterward.

Then we went back to Europe. Tom knew people on the steamer to whom I
took a dislike. They were bold and even vulgar, and Tom admitted that
he did not admire them. I made up my mind we should avoid them. The
next afternoon I found Tom and that group walking the deck arm in arm,