"I don't know if you've had any expectations from me," he said at last. "I've been pretty blunt with you in the past."
The young man had risen and was standing before the fire, his face working.
"I've no need for mum—much money," he explained. "You see I've no expensive tastes. I don't hunt or shoot or gug—gamble. If I can have enough for the necessities of life, and to buy an occasional bub—book or two, that's all I need."
"Ned," said the other, coming firmly to the point, "I've made arrangements for the three hundred a year I allow you to be continued throughout your life."
"I think it's mum—most awfully good of you, father," said the young man with obvious sincerity.
The other grunted.
"I don't know," he replied. "Not every son would take it that way."
He was rarely moved. His son saw it and was wretched.
Then the woman came in with luncheon.