He could not speak, for now the tears were beyond his control; but he took his old mother's withered hand and patted it.
Then he jumped up, as if something had frightened him.
"What would father have said of this?"
"Father had his day at ruling," retorted the mother. "Now it is your day. As long as father lived we had to obey him. Now is the time to show what you are."
Her son was so astonished that he ceased crying.
"But I have just shown what I am!" he returned.
"No, you haven't," protested the mother. "You only try to be like him. Father experienced hard times, which made him fear poverty. He believed that he had to think of himself first. But you have never had any difficulties that should make you hard. You have more than you need, and it would be unnatural of you not to think of others."
When the two little girls entered the house the boy slipped in behind them and secreted himself in a dark corner. He had not been there long before he caught a glimpse of the shed key, which the farmer had thrust into his coat pocket.
"When the master of the house drives the children out, I'll take the key and ran," he thought.
But the children were not driven out and the boy crouched in the corner, not knowing what he should do next.