'But when shall I see you again, Augustus?' faltered Mrs. Meeker.
'Never!'
The parental feeling could no longer be restrained. She threw herself upon her son's neck, sobbing violently, and declared he should not leave her.
It did not avail. Although the young man's feelings seemed much softened, he resisted all her appeals. He unwound her arms with tenderness, and led her in silence down the staircase.
'Give my love to Harriet,' he said. 'Tell her I never will forget her.'
He opened the door into the street—a moment after, he had regained his room; and the miserable mother was driven back to her magnificent abode.
The next day an ordinary sailing vessel left New York for Liverpool, having on board the only son of Hiram Meeker.
When Mrs. Meeker reached her house, her husband had finished his dinner, and gone out. It was late when he returned—so late, that his wife had already retired.
In the morning, Mr. Meeker communicated to her the information of his son's disgraceful and criminal conduct. She listened with such an air of sorrow and distress, that it did not occur to him that she manifested no surprise. She prudently, perhaps, forbore communicating the incidents of the previous evening, for she knew it would lead to a terrible reproof on his part. Besides, her present interference was far beyond anything she had ever ventured on, and she stood in great terror of Hiram where important matters were concerned.