He loved his mother, whereas he merely liked the rest of the family.

He would not hurt her for worlds, and yet, why _must_ she---- And strangely, mysteriously, her attitude was confused in his mind with his dreams, and his Friend, and the red moon, and the comic chimneys.
He knew, however, that, during this last week he must be especially nice to his mother, and, with an elaborate courtesy and strained attention, he did his best.
The last night arrived, and, very smart and excited, they went to the theatre.

The boxes had been packed, and stood in a shining and self-conscious trio in John's bedroom.

The new play-box was there, with its stolid freshness and the black bands at the corners; inside, there was a multitude of riches, and it was, of course, a symbol of absolute independence and maturity.

John was wearing the new Eton jacket, also a new white waistcoat; the parting in his hair was straighter than it had ever been before, his ears were pink.