"She's about ruined him," Levi went on. "I put it to her plain and solemn, but she always slips through argument like a greased snake. Said I—let me have his next four years. I'll put him through college, give him work in the mills during the summer, and when he graduates I'll give him a choice of taking over the business or following a profession. The knowledge of business and some honest, hard work would bring the scamp's tone up. He's flabby now; flabby as his father before him."
"And she—says?"
Levi turned to the letter.
"She says she will not consider the plan for a moment, but she says she will not mention it to Lansing, and when I return he may choose for himself. I really thought the Treadwell woman would reckon with the money and not be so independent!"
"It's to her credit," Matilda murmured.
"Oh! doubtless she thinks when I have it out with the boy I'll change my mind. She'll find the contrary. It's come to the last ditch now. I'm not going to have any repetition of—the past with my money backing it!"
Again a long silence while Sandy apparently slept, and Bob twitched and grunted. Then:
"Matilda, we must return to Massachusetts. How soon can we go?"
Suddenly Sandy started up and leaned forward. His eyes were the one prominent feature in his face, and they were now hungry and anxious.
"Massachusetts?" he whispered in the weak, hoarse voice of the convalescent; "Massachusetts? That's where I'm going; there's money to pay my way, almost, I reckon. I'll work out the rest and make my schooling, too. I'll promise. Oh! take me with you!"