“Then you don’t think he would influence the girl to marry with Oakleigh?”
“He never will try to influence her in any way in regard to her marriage. That I know.”
“And perhaps you know that the girl wouldn’t have him for a husband on any consideration?”
“Yes,” answered the youth, and, thus driven, he answered somewhat warmly, “I know just that!”
“Poor young man! I’ve heard he loved her dearly.”
“Then you’ve heard more than ever I did; for I candidly believe the man can love no living thing save himself!—There, mother, I think we had better drop this subject. The affairs of those people can be nothing to us, and we will let them rest.”
Percy saw the smile that curled his mother’s lips, and he saw the sneer; but he made no further remark, nor did she, on that subject.
The meal was drawing toward its close, and Percy had not offered to touch the wine. Usually he had drunk a few swallows when commencing to eat. He was watching his mother narrowly.
He saw that her eyes often rested upon the bottle, and then turned toward himself; and more than once he was confident he detected a cloud of anxiety on her brow. Finally she spoke.
“Percy, won’t you try the wine?”