About twelve o'clock Gerald turned his steps in the direction of home, though, since his father's death, it no longer seemed to him like home. Dinner would be on the table at half-past twelve, and he always aimed to be punctual.
Mrs. Lane took her place at the table, stiff and rigid as usual. She had not forgotten the savings bank deposit of Gerald, and had made up her mind to get it under her control.
Mrs. Lane did not immediately introduce the subject, but when the dessert came on she said: "I saw you coming out of the savings bank this morning."
"Now for it!" thought Gerald.
"Yes," he said, in brief assent.
"How long have you had an account there?"
"About two years."
"Did you withdraw any money this morning?"
"Yes."
"How much?"