“Quite enough,” he remarked nonchalantly.
“But there is one thing I should like you to understand,” she added, looking up at him. “I consent, it is true; but, had it not been for another reason, far more powerful with me than any you have urged, I never should have done so. It is a reason which you do not know of—and which I pray that you never may know of,” she added, in a lower key.
He made no answer; indeed, he seemed little interested in my mother’s words. He turned, instead, to me and read in my face all the enthusiasm which hers lacked. I would have spoken, but he held up his hand and checked me.
“Only on one condition,” he said coldly. “No thanks. I hate them! What I do for you I do to please myself. The money which it will cost me is no more than I have thrown away many times on the idlest passing pleasure. I have simply chosen to gratify a whim, and it happens that you are the gainer. Remember that you can best show your gratitude by silence.”
His words fell like drops of ice upon my impetuosity. I remained silent without an effort.
“From what you said just now,” he continued, “I learn that it has been your desire to perfect your education in a fashion which you could not have done here. Have you any distinct aims? I mean, have you any definite ideas as to the future?”
I shook my head.
“I never dared to encourage any,” I answered, truthfully enough. “I knew that we were poor and that I should have to think about earning my living soon—probably as a schoolmaster.”
“You mean to say, then, that you have never had any distinct ambitions—everything has been vague?”
“Except one thing,” I answered slowly. “There is one thing which I have always set before me to accomplish some day, but it is scarcely an ambition and it has nothing to do with a career.”