Theodore gave a shriek of defiance as he listened, and then losing complete control over himself, he stamped round the room, raving at the top of his voice, venting on his stepmother all the pent-up evil thoughts he had harboured against her during the last few months.
She uttered no word, only watched him sorrowfully, marvelling that so young a child could hate so bitterly; then she went up to him, her quiet face showing little of the pain he had caused her.
"Are you going to obey me, Theodore?" she asked. "Go to your own room at once."
"I will not!"
"I must insist upon it."
"I will not! I—"
The words died on the boy's lips as the door opened and his father entered. Mr. Barton surveyed his son in silence, a dark flush of anger crossing his face; whilst Theodore's spirit quailed guiltily, though he was still determined to brazen the matter out.
Mrs. Barton in a few words gave her husband to understand that Theodore persisted in an act of disobedience, and she was insisting that he should go to his own room, and remain there for a punishment.
"Well, Theodore," Mr. Barton said sternly, "do as you are told, and go!"
"I will not do as she tells me!"