He spoke savagely, through clenched teeth. "It's your fault. You ought to be more careful."
Her womanhood rose in rebellion. "Any time you're tired of me, Paul,——"
"It's easy to talk." He laughed abruptly. "And since the business is doing so well, there are always younger women,——"
He did not finish—her look silenced him.
With no woman to confide in, Mary turned to her son, rather than to the girls. His whole horizon was filled with love for her mellow brown-eyed beauty, and for the mothering mountain that came to stand for her in his fancies.
On the walks with his father, Paul's mind was filled with thoughts of the planned development of the land for residential purposes, while Pelham was busied with fantasies of fairies and knightly escapades. Father and son were continually jarring over little things; the estrangement widened.
"I think we'll continue the gap road as an avenue to the railroad tracks. Logan Avenue, we'll call it. Mr. Guild thinks that would be a good place."
"Down Dwarfland?"
The father was plainly irritated. "'Dwarfland' ... what poppycock! Why can't you get your head down to business, Pelham?"
He would meekly smother his wandering imagination, and listen to long monologues about grading, restricted allotments, and similar boring topics.