He called to her, and she appeared.
"Why my hat, Mother dear ?" he asked gently as he kissed her.
Mrs.Wayne smiled absently, and put up her hand to the soft felt hat she was wearing.
"I just went out to post some letters," she said, as if this were a complete explanation; then she removed a mackintosh that she happened to have on, though the day was fine.

She was then seen to be wearing a dark skirt and a neat plain shirt that was open at the throat.

Though no longer young, she somehow suggested a boy--a boy rather overtrained; she was far more boyish than Wayne.

She had a certain queer beauty, too; not beauty of Adelaide's type, of structure and coloring and elegance, but beauty of expression.

Life itself had written some fine lines of humor and resolve upon her face, and her blue-gray eyes seemed actually to flare with hope and intention.