“It is good of you to come, my dear. Of course, I understand that it is all over now. It must be. It is not in nature that you should keep him on any longer. But I thought you would see my poor boy once more.”
It was Charley’s mother who spoke. He was the only son of a widow.
“Oh, yes, I came—I came,” Lily replied, tearfully. “But what is the good? He will promise everything again. How many times has he repented and promised—and promised?”
“My poor boy! And we were so proud of him, weren’t we, dear?” said the mother, wiping away a tear. “He was going to do such great things with his cleverness and his speaking. And now—I have seen it coming on, my dear, for a year and more, but I durstn’t speak to you. When he came home night after night with a glassy eye and a husky voice, when he reeled across the room, at first I pretended not to notice it. A man mustn’t be nagged or shamed, must he? Then I spoke in the morning, and he promised to pull himself up.”
“He will promise—ah! yes—he will promise.”
“If you could only forgive him he might keep his promise.”
Lily shook her head doubtfully.
“I went to the office this morning, my dear. They have been expecting it for weeks. The head clerk warned him. It was known that he had fallen into bad company—in the city they don’t like spouters. And when he came back after his dinner he was so tipsy that he fell along. They just turned him out on the spot.”