“Well, what do you think, mother?” asked John, when he had waited a reasonable time for her to express her opinion on the exciting topic.
Mrs. Somers rocked herself more violently than before, and made no reply.
“What were you going to say?”
“I think the boy has gone off to Boston, and gone into the army,” replied she, desperately, as though she had fully made up her mind to commit herself to this belief.
“Do you think so, mother?”
“I feel almost sure of it.”
“I don’t think so, mother. Tom wouldn’t have gone off without saying something to me about it.”
“If he wouldn’t say it to me, he wouldn’t be likely to say it to you, John. It don’t look a bit like Thomas to go off and leave his mother in this way,” moaned the poor woman, wiping away a deluge of tears that now poured from her eyes.
“I don’t believe he has done any such thing, mother,” protested John.
“I feel almost certain about it, now. If the boy wanted to go, and couldn’t stay at home, he ought to have told me so.”