"No, I will not! Someone has been putting you against Tom!"
"Someone has been telling me the truth about him. He is a bad boy; he swears, and tells lies. Is it not so?"
But Theodore was furiously angry. This was the first time his stepmother had ventured to interfere with his doings. His fierce grey eyes met hers, and he read in her steady gaze a look he did not like, a look that told him she meant him to obey her.
"What has it to do with you?" he demanded rudely.
"A great deal. It hurts me to think my husband's son should care for low company. Understand me, if this Tom Blake was a good boy I should not object in the least to your going about with him; it is simply because he is not good that I do object. Dear Theodore, you must see it is right. Do promise me you will do as I wish!"
"No! no! What has it to do with you? Why do you interfere with me? No one ever did until you came! You are not my mother, and I won't stand it! I hate you! I do! Yes, I hate you!"
"You do not know what you are saying, Theodore," Mrs. Barton said quietly, though her face became very pale. "You cannot mean what you say!"
"Yes, I do! I do! I hate you! I will go with Tom Blake whenever I like. He is waiting for me now, and I shall go, I tell you!"
Theodore was moving towards the door, but to his surprise his stepmother interposed between it and him.
"No, you will not go," she said, and the boy, even in his passion was quick to note the ring of power in her tones. "I shall prevent you. Go to your own room at once, and remain there till I give you permission to leave it."