“He don’t seem to have overmuch affection for his father,” thought Gilbert. And Gilbert was right. Randolph was very selfish; and his chief regard was for himself. Even his mother, who idolized him, received but a scant return. One reason why Randolph would be sorry to have his father return was, that he was now receiving, from his mother, the six dollars a week which properly should have gone for Gilbert’s board; and of this he would doubtlessly be deprived when Mr. Briggs came back.
“Well, I guess I can’t stay any longer,” said Randolph, looking at his watch. “You haven’t been up to the house lately.”
“No; my evenings are engaged, you know.”
“You’d better come up and dine soon.”
Gilbert was rather surprised at this invitation; but Randolph’s motive was soon apparent.
“If you will, I will go round to the Vivians afterwards with you.”
“Perhaps,” suggested Gilbert, “when I want to be away for an evening, you will go in my place.”
“No, I guess not. I don’t think I should like to teach. I’d rather go with you.”
“I will think of it. At any rate, I thank you for the invitation.”
Randolph went home at once. He wanted to tell his mother the news. It may well be believed that she was not pleased. She would have been glad to hear that he had been compelled to leave the city.