Mrs. Lane lived in the old mansion¹ that had belonged to his father. Abel also lived with her. He had teased her to go to the city to live, but she hesitated, partly from motives² of prudence³ and partly from a thought of the temptations to which she feared Abel would yield.

 

She did not find her son a source of satisfaction. He was irritable⁴ and unpleasant in his manner, and a source of anxiety to her.

 

One day he came in and broke out: "What do you think I heard this morning?"

 

"I don't know. You had better tell me at once."

 

"Gerald is on his way home."

 

"Is he indeed? Who told you?"

 

"Munroe Hill. He lives near Mr. Nugent, you know. Mr. Nugent told him. Are you going to let him come here?"

 

"I don't know," replied Mrs. Lane, hesitatingly. "I presume he has some money."

 

"Then let him pay board. You can't afford to support him."

 

"People might say ill-natured things, as I received all my money from his father."

 

"Let them talk! It is none of their business. That reminds me, ma. Can't you let me have five dollars?"

 

"I let you have some money three days ago," said Mrs. Lane, frowning. "What did you do with it?"

 

"It was only three dollars."

 

"That is a good deal of money for a boy of your age. You seem to think I am made of money."

 

"You mustn't get mean, ma. Why, Mr. Lane left you as much as fifty thousand dollars. I have heard you say so."

 

"I will give you two dollars, and not a cent more. Don't ask me for any more for a week."

 

Abel did not commit himself, but taking the money, went down the street, where he soon spent part of it playing pool with a young man of not the best reputation.

 

Mrs. Lane sat down at her desk, and began to examine her accounts.

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