So the old year died, and Neal had not given the required promise.
One day, shortly before he returned to St. Asaph's, he said to his sister,
"Hessie, if I had been of age I think I would have tried to break the will of grandmother's."
"Oh, Neal dear, don't say that! What do you mean?"
"Well, it isn't that I mind your having the money; you have always been a brick about keeping me supplied; but the trouble is, I need more than you give me."
"Neal, I am afraid you are spending too much," said Mrs. Franklin, looking at him anxiously. "Are you in debt again? You know I would love to give you all I have, but your guardians and the trustees of the estate and John all think that you have a very large allowance for a school-boy, and it would not be a good plan to let you have any more."
"Bother them all!" exclaimed Neal, seizing the poker and giving the fire an angry thrust. A shower of sparks flew out, but he let one burn a hole in the rug without noticing. "I'm tired of being tied to your apron-string. I've a good mind to cut loose altogether."
"Don't say that!" cried Mrs. Franklin, in distress, going to him and putting her arm through his. He was taller than she, and she had to look up at him.
"If it were only you, it would be different," continued her brother; "but you see you're married now, and everything is changed."
"But John is fond of you, Neal; I know he is. But he knows all about boys, and his advice is good. Would—would five dollars help you?"