"At one time not long ago, the bills were so large that we had to pay—it was so hard to get the money, I was almost on the point of going to you—for him, you know—and to ask you for a little help. But that's all over now."
"Oh, I ought to have come through—I ought to have owned it all up!"
"Yes, Will, you ought."
"Why did you keep it—why didn't you name me? I always thought, for a long time, that you would, that you must."
"I don't know. Don't ask me anything. But at least, Don's out now. Thank God! he's clear—he's innocent, and they all know it now. They can't keep him down, can they? He won't have as hard a time as I've had? He'll succeed, won't he? He must, after it all!"
"Yes," said the man, shaking as in a palsy, "after it all, he ought to, and I pray he may." But he could talk no more.
"And he's such a fine boy! I don't see how you could——"
"How I could disown him? Yesterday?"
She nodded. "I can't understand that. I never could. I can't see how you could hesitate. I—I wish you hadn't. I—I can't forgive that." Her voice rose slightly at last, a spot of color came into her pallid cheek.
"I didn't have the courage to come through square, and that's the truth about it. I've never had, all along. Maybe a man doesn't have the same feeling that a woman does about a child—I don't know. But I was worse than the average man—more selfish. I got caught up in politics, in business. Success?—well, I saw how hard it is. I thought I had to keep down the past. Well, it's over now. But as for you——"