"You couldn't take the 10:20 with Dad and Jim?"
"I've got to meet Reynolds at half-past ten, Mother," the boy said
patiently.
"Reynolds!" she frowned. "Don't like my fine big boy to have friends
like that--" His eyes warned her. "Friends that aren't as fine and dear
and good as he is!" she finished, her hands on his shoulders.
"Reynolds is all right," said Ned, bored, and looking coldly beyond her.
"And you'll be home for dinner, Ned?"
"Sure! Unless the Orpheum should be awfully long. In that case we may
get a bite somewhere."
"Try to be home for dinner," persisted the mother. And, as if to warrant
the claim on his consideration, she added: "I paid the Cutter bill
myself, dear, and Dad will pay Jordan next month. I didn't say anything
about Cutter, but he begged me to make you _feel_ how wrong it is to let
these things run. You have a splendid allowance, Ned," she was almost
apologetic, "and there's no necessity of running over it, dear!"
"Sure. I'm not going to do that again," Ned said gruffly, uncomfortably.
"That's right, dear! And you will--you'll try to be home for dinner?"
"Sure I'll try!" and Ned was gone, down through the roses and through
the green gate.
Pages:
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143