"Yes, from your father."
"Don't call him my father!" said the boy hastily. "He isn't my father."
"He is your stepfather—and my husband," said Mrs. Morris soberly.
"Yes, worse luck for you! Well, what does he say?"
"He's coming home."
An expression of dismay quickly gathered on the boy's face.
"How can that be? His term isn't out."
"It is shortened by good behavior, and so he comes out four months before his sentence would have expired."
"I wouldn't have him here, mother," said Grit earnestly. "He will only worry and trouble you. We are getting on comfortably now without him."
"Yes, thanks to my good, industrious boy."