“Oh, Hazy, Hazy,” he sobbed at last. “I’m a beast—a brute—a wretch; and I wish I was dead.”
“There—there! Hazel, see what you have done!” cried Mrs Thorne angrily. “Oh, my boy, my boy! Come here to me, Percy; I will stand by you whatever comes.”
But Percy seemed to be quite satisfied to stay where he was, for he made no movement beyond that of yielding himself more and more to his sister’s embrace.
“Hush, dear!” she said tenderly. “If you have done wrong, be frank and outspoken. Let us hear the truth.”
For answer, the lad, approaching manhood in stature, but with his child-nature still greatly in the ascendant, wept more bitterly; but at last, perfectly heedless of his mother’s plaints and appeals, he raised his head, wiped his eyes, and, flinging his arms round his sister, kissed her passionately again and again.
“There; now you will tell us all, Percy,” said Hazel, responding to his caresses.
“You’ll turn your back on me if I do,” he groaned.
“Is it likely that I should, Percy! There, speak out frankly—is it something about money!”
“Yes,” said the lad, hanging his head.
“You have been getting in debt!”