"Charlie got your father's tastes and your mother's lack of strength. He seems to have no sense of right. He was most unfortunate. He didn't get a square deal. But his very weakness gives me hope. He will have to be watched, for he may break away at any time. There was no leading your father, even in the way he wanted to go. He had to be under strong compulsion—driven."
"Did you ever drive him, Fox?"
"Once," he answered briefly. "It was no fun."
"I remember the time." She sighed and rose slowly. "Well—"
Fox rose also. "Had enough of my preaching, Sally? I don't do it often and I don't wonder you don't like it."
She smiled at him gravely and gave him her hand. "I'm greatly obliged to you, Fox. If you can help me I will ask you to. I promise you that."
He held her hand much longer than was at all necessary and he gazed down at her with a longing which he could not hide. Not that he tried; but she was not looking at him.
"Promise me something else, Sally."
Sally glanced up at him in surprise at his voice. "Anything that I can do, of course," she said.
The look in his eyes was very tender—and pitying, Sally thought. "Marry me, Sally. Promise me that."