“Yes,” said Jack; and he came and stood before his uncle; his face was grave, his eyes had dark circles under them; he looked very still, pale, and spiritless.
“Harry is dead,” he said heavily, with a strange hopeless tone in his voice.
“I have heard so,” replied Ronald, coldly and unfeelingly, as he felt. “Is that what you have come to say?”
“No,” said Jack. “I have come to tell you I will not live with my mother any longer.”
It was the first time he had called her formally mother. Hurstmanceaux looked at him in great surprise.
“That is a very grave statement,” he said at last. “Don’t you know that you have no will of your own? You are a minor.”
Jack was silent, but his face grew very resolute; his uncle saw that he was in earnest.
“You wish to live no longer with your mother?” said Ronald slowly. “May I ask your reasons?”
“I shall not tell my reasons,” said Jack haughtily, with the color coming back into his face, hotly and painfully.
Hurstmanceaux appreciated the answer; it did not anger him as it would have done most men.