She saw him start and look disconcerted as the waiter spoke to him, then wave the glass of wine aside.

But he did not stir from him place.
The waiter came back to Mrs.Whitford: "He says don't wait for him, ma'am." The poor mother felt an icy coldness run along her nerves.

For some moments she stood irresolute, and then went back to the parlor.

She remained there for a short time, masking her countenance as best she could, and then returned to the dining-room, where noise and merriment still prevailed.

She did not at first see her son, though her eyes went quickly from face to face and from form to form.