The look of terror returned to her face; she clinched her hands until the jewels cut deeply into the white fingers; then, springing to her feet, she paced the room wildly until she heard the footsteps of her son approaching, when she instantly assumed her usual composure.
Walter LaGrange had left Fair Oaks immediately at the close of the inquest, and had not returned except to be present at the funeral, and even there his sullen appearance had caused general remark.
Very little love had ever existed between mother and son, for neither had a nature capable of deep affection, but never until now had there been any open rupture between them.

Though closely resembling each other, he lacked her ability to plan and execute, and had hitherto been content to follow her counsels.

But, as he now entered his mother's room, a glance revealed to her that her authority and influence over him were past.
"You sent for me, I believe.

What do you want ?" he asked, as she looked at him without speaking.
"Do you consider your conduct becoming towards a mother who is risking everything for you and your interests ?" "Oh, my interests be hanged," he exclaimed, petulantly.

"I don't see that you've accomplished much for my interests with all your scheming.