But it was not to be.

Her sense of justice was evenly balanced; her son had the same right that his father had; it was natural that he should desire a mate and a home of his own; but, nevertheless, it was bitter.

That his choice had been an actress caused her no alarm.

Her son was a gentleman; he would never marry beneath him; it was love, not infatuation; and love is never love unless it can find something noble and good to rest upon.

It was not the actress, no; the one great reiterating question was: did this brilliant woman love her son?
Was it the man or his money?
She had gone to New York to meet Miss Challoner.