Chapter Seven
Developments
It was during that drive the next morning that Jack buoyed up by memories of Saturday and hopes of coming Saturdays, poured out the history of his life at Mrs. Rosscott’s knees. He told her the whole story of Aunt Mary, and his side of the cat, the cabman, and Kalamazoo. It interested her, for she had arrived too recently to have had the full details in the newspapers beforehand, but when he spoke of Aunt Mary’s last letter she grew large-eyed and shook her head gravely.
“You will have to be very good now,” she said seriously.
“Why?” he asked. “Just to keep from being disinherited? That wouldn’t be so awful.”
“Wouldn’t it be awful to you?” she asked, turning her bright eyes upon him. “What could be worse?”
“Things,” he said very vaguely.
Then she touched up the cob a little; and, after a minute or two, as she said nothing, he continued:
“I almost fancy quitting college and going to work. I was thinking about it last night.”
She touched up the cob a little more, and remained silent.
Finally he said: