“And break my heart,” I said, in a low voice.
Jack buried his face in his hands, and breathed hard. I did not know what to say next. We had gone over and over the old ground so often and so uselessly. Jack was always sorry, always angry with himself and distressed for my sake; and he always meant to do better,—only somehow he never did do better.
“I don’t know what in the world is to become of me,” he groaned at length. “Only I don’t mean to be a burden on you and father,—that’s certain.”
I think I said nothing, for I could not trust my voice. Tears were fighting to make their way, and I could not bear him to see me cry. I knew it would make him still more unhappy. But this did indeed seem to be the one drop too much in our cup.
“How long a time will they give you?” Cherry asked mournfully.
“Just till my next blunder. That’s all. To-morrow, most likely.”
“They won’t dismiss you at an hour’s notice. Impossible, Jack!”
“O no. But that will settle the question.”
He had lifted his head for a moment, but now it was down in his hands again.
Only Cherry and I were in the room beside Jack,—except Maimie, who was, as we believed, sleeping on the sofa.