Instead of answering she came up to me and took my arms in her two hands and pulled my head to her.
"Good-by, Van!" she said, kissing me.
As I stepped out of the door I turned for the last time:—
"Can't you let me do something for my brother, who is a sick man?"
Tears came to her eyes, but she shook her head.
"I know he's sick, and likely to fail in what he's doing. But it can't be helped!"
Outside little Van was sitting on the ground playing with a broken toy engine. I put my hand on his little tumbled head, and turned to his mother:—
"I suppose you wouldn't let him touch my money, either?"
She smiled back her defiance through her tears.
"You had rather he'd grow up in the alley here than let me give him an education and start him in life!"