Chapters (54)
- Hudson River Bracketed
- Part 1
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Part 2
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Part 3
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Part 4
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Part 5
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Part 6
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Part 7
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
"—When what you took from me was my son. I trusted him with you, Vance; I thought you'd had enough kindness in this house to feel some obligation. I said to you: 'Well, go to that game if you're a mind to. But swear to me you'll be back the same night, both of you; and keep away from that Hayes and his rough crowd.' And you swore to me you would. And here I sat and waited and waited—the first time Upton was ever away from me for a night, and not so much as knowing where he was. And then a second night, and no sign of you. I thought I'd go mad then. I began life grand enough, as your folks'll tell you; and now everything's gone from me except my children. And when you crawled in yesterday evening, the two of you, I knew right away where you'd been, and what you'd been doing—and leading Upton into. It's not the first time you've been out all night since you came here, Vance Weston; but I wasn't going to say anything about the other time, if only you'd have let Upton alone. Now I guess you'd better tell your folks the air here don't agree with you. And here's the money your father sent me for your first fortnight. Take it."
She held out the money in a twitching hand, and Vance took it because at that moment he would not have dared to disobey any injunction she laid on him. And, besides, he could understand her hating that money. There was something much more alarming to him in the wrath of this mild creature than in the explosions of the choleric. When Mr. Weston was angry Vance knew it bucked him up like a cocktail; but Mrs. Tracy's anger clearly caused her suffering instead of relief, was only one more misery in a life made up of them. "If it hurts her to keep that money I'd better take it," he thought vaguely.
"You mean I'd better go?" he asked.
"You'd better go," she flung back with white lips.
"I'm sorry," was all he could think of saying. It was awfully unjust about Upton, but the boy was his junior by two or three years, and of course, if his mother didn't know …
"All right, I'll go if you say so. Is this Monday or Tuesday?"