Mrs.Ryder was busy at her escritoire looking over a mass of household accounts.
"Hello, mother!" he cried, running up and hugging her in his boyish, impulsive way.

Jefferson had always been devoted to his mother, and while he deplored her weakness in permitting herself to be so completely under the domination of his father, she had always found him an affectionate and loving son.
"Jefferson!" she exclaimed when he released her.

"My dear boy, when did you arrive ?" "Only yesterday.

I slept at the studio last night.

You're looking bully, mother.