tried to stop you, Frank, I honestly tried because I knew that no matter how much you hurt John and me when you disowned him, in the end you would be the one to be hurt the most. And you are, Frank. You're practically trembling right now because you think that you are the one who has been hurt. I warned you not to get upset. I don't think we should talk about this any more. tonight. Go upstairs, Frank. Go upstairs to bed. Perhaps you can get some sleep."

Frank wanted to answer her, wanted to shout down her accusation that he had failed his son. But he could not; he felt too ill. He wished that he could stay in his chair, comfortably slumped over, and rest a while. But Helen was looking at him in a way that made him feel that she was not asking him to leave, but rather that she was telling him to leave. What had come over her? She seemed to have acquired an air of authority and sureness which he had always considered to be his prerogative.

He struggled up from his chair. "I don't think that you should put the blame for what John became quite so squarely on my shoulders, Helen," he said in a tone so conciliatory that he was surprised by it. "After all, you admit that John's actions that night were deliberate, that he meant us to hear them carrying on like that. I don't care why he did it. He could at least have had the decency to conceal that from us. Shaking his head slightly, he said, He could have moved into town with Ralph and we might never have known that anything was 'irregular' about their relationship."

"From what John has told me, Frank, he really is not too sure himself why he did it. He said that Ralph was violently against it but that he had practically forced Ralph to go through with it."

But why, Helen, why?" He slumped down on the arm of the chair. "I think it was because of what happened at dinner that night. You were so proud of John and so thankful to Ralph, asking them all sorts of questions about Korea and the crash, and all that happened after that. But then you began making remarks about getting married, settling down, raising a family. Didn't you notice how restless John was? How Ralph just sat there, not saying a word?

"I think John wanted to let you know that he and Ralph were as married as they ever would be. You couldn't see that and I suppose John felt that he had to make you see it; but you got on your high moral horse and condemned your son without the feeblest attempt to understand him."

"I'm used to making decisions, Helen. Sometimes they are hasty decisions but I'm usually right. Even if I admit that I was too short with John you will have to admit that after what he said to me before he left, I was right to decide as I did. What kind of a son is it who denies that he owes anything to his father? We gave him his life. We raised him as well as we could. And then he says that he owes us nothing? Honor thy father and thy mother.'

What kind of honoring is that?"

"It's perfectly all right for you to lean on 'Honor thy father and thy mother,' Frank, but remember that that command was laid down because otherwise there would be no necessity to honor them. The child cannot be asked if he wants to be born. He doesn't really owe anything to his parents."

"Now really, Helen. You can't believe that. Why, what would happen to the human.

You

"I know, Frank, I know," she said as if to say 'What kind of a fool do you think I am?' "But John feels that way. He thinks that any love or gratitude he may show us is freely given; it is not something that he owes us. haven't thought about that at all, Frank. I doubt that you even sensed it and yet you yourself said that you were a stranger to him. Can you blame him for that? Just think back a minute.

"You know that John is a light sleeper. You know he has trouble falling asleep. Perhaps you don't know that John sensed that I could never have another child. I doubt that he himself consciously knew that. I think he may only have felt it. Be that as it may, think of all the nights he must have lain

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