"Yes."
"His pride will have a pretty hard fall."
"I mean that it shall," said Mrs. Oakley, compressing her thin lips.
"Well, I don't envy John. Every dog has his day, and he has had his. It's our turn now. Another cup of coffee, and not so weak as the last."
"I don't think such strong coffee is good for you, Benjamin."
"Oh bother, don't be a granny," said Ben, rudely. "Anybody'd think I was a baby."
This was the way in which Ben addressed his mother, who deserved his gratitude at least, for she was to him a devoted and self-sacrificing mother, however faulty might be her conduct towards John.
At length Ben's late breakfast was over, and he left the house to resort to his accustomed haunt,—the hotel bar-room and billiard saloon.
"I wish Ben cared more about study, and was more ambitious," thought Mrs. Oakley, with a half sigh. "If I could only make him feel as I do!"