"We won't ask your father, Ollie," she said, drawing him closer to her. She knew he would yield to her wishes, and she loved him the better for it, if that were possible. "I have a little money saved which I will give you. You won't be long finding a good place."
"And how often can I come back to you?" he cried, starting up. Until now this phase of the situation had not entered his mind.
"Not often, my boy—certainly not until you can afford it. It is costly travelling. Maybe once or twice a year."
"Oh, then there's no use talking, I can't go. I can't—can't, be away from you that long. That's going to be the hardest part." He had started from his seat and, stood over her, a look of determination on his face.
"Oh, yes, you can, my son, and you will," she replied, as she too rose and stood beside him, stopping the outburst of his weakness with her calm voice, and quieting and soothing him with the soft touch of her hand, caressing his cheek with her fingers as she had so often done when he, a baby, had lain upon her breast.
Then with a smile on her face, she had kissed him good-night, closed the door, and staggering along the corridor steadying herself as she walked, her hand on the walls, had thrown herself upon her bed in an agony of tears, crying out:
"Oh, my boy—my boy! How can I give you up? And I know it is forever!"
And now here he is foot-sore and heart-sore, sitting in Union Square,
New York, the roar of the great city in his ears, and here he must sit
until the cattle-barge which takes him every night to the house of Amos
Cobb's friend is ready to start on her voyage up the river.
He sat with his head in his hands, his elbows on his knees, not stirring until a jar on the other end of the bench roused him. A negro hod-carrier, splashed with plaster, and wearing a ragged shirt and a crownless straw hat, had taken a seat beside him. The familiarity of the act startled Oliver. No negro wayfarer would have dared so much in his own Square at home.
The man reached forward and drew closer to his own end of the bench a bundle of sawed ends and bits of wood which he had carried across the park on his shoulder.