Page:Keeping the Peace.pdf/15

 roots were not buried in loam, the top did not wither.

Tangled among the roots of the oak were lozenges—not the kind sold in drug stores to amend sore throats, but heraldic lozenges—on which were printed the names of remote ancestors. Ordinary ancestors were printed in black, more than ordinary ancestors were printed in black with the capital letter in red. But the lozenge of Edward the Confessor was red and larger than the others, and the lettering was gold. Almost every crest, motto and device known to heraldry was represented somewhere in or about the tree.

But there was one notable exception. There was not even one sniveling abortive example of the bar sinister.

Above religion and above pedigree, Mrs. Eaton maintained the sanctity and all the privileges of motherhood. She always spoke of her own mother as "dear mother," and even when speaking hurriedly she never failed to tremolo the words. As soon as her own children were old enough to speak at all, they were taught the "dear mother" formula. And they were taught to speak of their grandmother as "dearest" grandmother, and of their mother's many sisters, living and dead, as "dearest" Aunt So-and-so. They were taught not only the preciousness and sanctity of their own