"You opened it without his knowledge or consent."
"I know that too."
"And then you ran away from your home."
"That also I know."
"I was sent for by your uncle—"
"By your father, you mean," I interposed.
"I said by your uncle," added he, persistently. "I found him quite ill—made so by your bad behavior."
"Not much," I replied, when Tom looked into my face to notice the effect of this revelation. "Didn't he tell you he had not slept nights for years; that he had steeped his soul in crime for your sake, Mr. Tom Thornton?"
He started, sprang to his feet; but recollecting himself, he sat down again, and tried to recover his calmness.
"It's no use for you to tell me, Mr. Tom Thornton, that your father was made ill by my bad behavior. It was your bad behavior and his own that trouble him."