“No.”
“What did he do?”
No answer.
“Let’s be frank. I’m trying to get him out of the slough he’s in. I must know everything. Treat me as if I were his physician, as I believe I am. He was nasty to you?”
“Yes; he called me the vilest name.... We’ve talked about that, I know; names should not affect us. ‘Sticks and stones,’ etc.—I know that is true; but, man, you can’t know the surging, overwhelming emotion that covers a mother when her boy calls her something low, unmentionable—horrible.”
“Let’s forget that,” he said, “and get the gain out of it. It means you must give up trying to control him. Don’t care about that. It’s just like a doctor when something that should stimulate depresses. He changes the medicine as one would change a coat, and with no more concern. You had to try this out, to see if you couldn’t hold him. You could not give him up without one more trial. That’s all right, and now you must leave him to me. We’re getting along. He lets me scold him. It’s my luck not to get on his bad side. I may; nobody knows. But I’ve been able to suggest lots of good habits. We walk miles together on the deck, you notice. He’s getting some health back; and I’m chucking him full of confidence. Cheer up. Don’t let a name or two bother you. That’s just the devil in him talking. Oh, he’s got a devil, all right, and I’m the boy to exorcise it. You leave it to me. You will; won’t you?”
“I am not sure that I should.” She turned her face away.
“Ah, that’s pride, I fear.”
“I am sure it is.” She turned her face to him with a wan smile.
“Good!” he cried. “Honest confession is good for the soul.”