“It was the hardness of conditions that killed him. He only knew failure; and I have something better than that to offer his son. You love the boy, Virginia, how do you know I may not love him, too? Few men are more alone in the world than I, why should I not love him just as you love him?”
“My plans for him as I have thought them out, would be to send him away to school as soon as he is old enough. This I regard as necessary, for if he remains here, he will inevitably get a wrong idea, perhaps an injurious idea, as to his relation to me, and his expectations.”
“You have not even seen him,” said Virginia.
“But you tell me he is like his father. I was fond of his father once.”
“Yet you would do nothing for him,” she said bitterly.
“He did not want me to; he would have accepted nothing from me had I offered it. I don't reproach myself with anything there. It was only that his love for his son was a stronger passion than his pride, that made it possible for him to appeal to me.”
“But I am to see Stephen.”
“As often as you like, but he is to live with me, Virginia; this is to be clearly understood between us; my house will be his home. You can trust him to me quite safely, and I shall end by caring for him; perhaps not as you love him; but still I may feel deeply and sincerely toward him.”
“I will give you my answer in a few days,” said Virginia rising hastily.
“As you like,” said Benson, following her example, and a gleam of triumph flashed in his eyes. He knew what her answer would be.