"Your father will punish you when he comes back."
"No he won't—he likes us too much, and we don't care for you, ma, when pa isn't here," said Alice.
Mrs. Smithers sighed again, but made no further effort to get the children to bed.
She knew they were their father's spoiled pets, and that it was useless, with her weak mind and undecided character, to attempt to control them in his absence.
So, while she sat silently crying to herself, Harold Stamford and Alice Regina got out the board and amused themselves with a game of checkers.
It was past midnight when Smithers returned, with rather an unsteady gait, and a glaziness about his eyes, which, taken in connection with the huskiness of his voice, led his wife to suppose that he had been drinking.
"This is a nice time to come home," she said, with more than her usual boldness.
"Very nicesh timesh," he answered, hiccoughing.
"Where have you been?"
"Looking for boysh they call Shoft Tommy—hic—that'sh where I've been."