Why did mothers insist on doing unnecessary things for their grown sons? Now she would expect to hear all about the evening. And if she was anything like she used to be before he went away, and of course she would be, she would see right through him and insist there was something the matter. She always could see through him. Never, even as a child, had he been able to deceive her. She always knew when he was in trouble, or even just disappointed. But now he must meet her and keep her from finding out about things. If she got an idea there was anything wrong about this job, she would be utterly against his taking it and would make him miserable until he gave it up. Even if he found it was all right in the end, it would be almost impossible to disabuse her mind of prejudice against it. So he must be very cautious about what he said, if indeed she was still up.

He opened the door silently and stole through the hall as quietly as possible, but his caution was useless. There she stood in the living room doorway smiling.

“Mom!” he said, with a sudden gentleness that the first sight of her after an absence always brought to him. And especially now, when he was so fresh from the long years at war and the deep longing for a sight of her blessed face.

“Yes?” she responded quickly, with that instant sympathy in his affairs, as always, and that quick, eager question as to the outcome of his mission. And then suddenly his heart fell. The job! She would want to know at once how it came out. She had been so confident he would get it, and he had been confident, too, when he went out, and so eager, as eager as she. Well, he just mustn’t let her see how he felt. That was all there was about it. He must cheer up and not show his depression. At least not tonight. And after tonight, of course, all was going to be right.

“Yes,” he answered her firmly, trying to put the glad ring into his voice he had told himself he ought to feel.

His mother hesitated, turned on the hall light over his head and studied his face, the way she always used to study it when he came home from school or college, to see if surely all was well with him.

“You …” She hesitated an instant, her keen eyes still searching his face. And he let her search it and tried to look happy.

“You—got the job?”

“Why sure, I told you I was going to get it, didn’t I? Of course I got it. There wasn’t any question about it. I thought I made that plain before I left.” He tried to grin and swagger as he used to do when he was a little boy and came to tell her of some trifling achievement in school or athletics, but still she stood there looking doubtful.

“Then, what is the matter, Son?”

“Matter?” he said gaily. “What could be the matter? I went after the job and got it. What more is there to say?”

But still she was silent, studying him.

“Then what is it, Son? Something has disappointed you.”

“Now Mother, you aren’t going to put on that old line of questions, are you? I never saw the like. You aren’t God, you know, to put me through a grilling.”

“Son!” There was piteous sharpness in her rebuke.

“Oh, forgive me, Moms. I didn’t mean that. I guess I’m a bit tired. It was a long meeting, and I’m not used to sitting up late yet, since I was in the hospital.”

His mother’s voice softened at once.

“Yes, dear boy. Of course! I forgot. Come.