He looked clean, with the cleanness of a tree after the measureless drenching of a storm; he had a careless, easy air, which completely concealed his assiduous and self-complacent self-consciousness.

He embraced his mother with enthusiasm.
"How well you look!" he exclaimed; then, with a glance round, "How well _everything_ looks!" His mother held tightly to his arm as they went into the house; she seemed elder sister rather than mother, and he delighted her by telling her so--omitting the qualifying adjective before the sister.
"But you're not a bit glad to see me," he went on.

"I believe you don't want me to come." "I'm just a little cross with you for not answering my letters," replied she.
"How is Del ?" he asked, and for an instant he looked embarrassed and curiously ashamed of himself.
"Adelaide is very well," was her reply in a constrained voice.
"I couldn't stay away any longer," said he.

"It was tiresome up at Windrift." He saw her disappointment, and a smile flitted over his face which returned and remained when she said: "I thought you were finding Theresa Howland interesting." "Oh, you did ?" was his smiling reply.

"And why ?" "Then you have come because you were bored ?" she said, evading.
"And to see you and Adelaide.