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"
"Didn't you know that she had one?" he enquired. "Don't you remember
seeing her when you were a child?"
She shook her head. "No, I don't remember her, and Father has never
spoken of her."
At this he glanced at her sharply, and then looked away over the tops of
the trees to the political mausoleum of the City Hall. "We take that as
a sort of joke now," he remarked irrelevantly, "but the time was--and
not so long ago either--when we boasted of it more than of the Lee
monument. Cost a lot too, they say! Queer, ain't it, the way we spend a
million dollars or more on a thing one year, and the next want to kick
it out on the junk heap? I reckon it's the same way about behaviour too.
It ain't so much what you do as the time you do it in that seems to make
the difference." As she showed no inclination to follow this train of
moralizing, he asked suddenly, "Do you remember your mother?"
"Only once. I remember seeing her once." He had not imagined that her
voice could become so gentle.


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