Part 7 (2/2)

And the mother burst into tears.

”I don't wish to have any contention about this matter, Esther,”

said Mr. Howland, gravely, as soon as his wife had grown calm, ”and I don't mean to have any. But I wish you to understand that I am in earnest. Being fully satisfied that the last hope for Andrew is to send him to sea, I have fully made up my mind to do it. I have already spoken to the captain of a vessel trading to South America.

A few months on s.h.i.+p-board will tame him. He'll be glad enough to behave himself when he gets home.”

”I have no faith in this remedy,” replied Mrs. Howland, somewhat to the surprise of her husband, who expected to silence her, as usual, with his broadly a.s.serted ultimatum. ”Severe remedies have been tried long enough. In my view, a milder course pursued toward the boy would effect more than any other treatment.”

”Mildness! Haven't we tried that, over and over again? And hasn't it only encouraged him to bolder acts of disobedience?”

Mrs. Howland sighed. Her mind went back to the past, but none of these instances of mild treatment could she remember. The iron hand had been on him from the beginning, crus.h.i.+ng out the good, and hardening the evil into endurance.

”Andrew,” said she, after sitting for some time with her eyes upon the floor, speaking in a very calm voice, ”he is my son as well as yours--and his welfare is as dear to me as it is to you. As his mother, I am ent.i.tled to a voice in all that concerns him; and now, in the sight of heaven, I give my voice distinctly against his being sent to sea.”

Mr. Howland seemed startled at this bold speaking in his wife, which, to him, amounted to little less than rebellion against his authority. As the head of the family, it was his prerogative to rule; and he had ruled for years with almost undisputed sway. Not in the least inclined did he feel to give up now, the power which he believed, of right, belonged to him. A sharp retort trembled for a moment on his lips; but he kept back its utterance. He did not, however, waver a single line from his purpose, but rather felt it growing stronger.

No more was said at this time by either. Mrs. Howland sought the earliest opportunity to be alone with her son, when she informed him of his father's purpose to send him to sea. Andrew was somewhat startled by this information, and replied, instantly--

”I don't want to go to sea, mother.”

”Nor do I wish you to go, Andrew,” said Mrs. Howland. ”You are too young to bear the hard usage that would certainly fall to your lot.

But your father is very determined about the matter.”

”I won't go!” boldly declared the boy.

”Andrew! Andrew! don't speak in that manner,” said the mother in a reproving voice.

”I'll run away first!”

An indignant flush came into the lad's face as he said this.

Mrs. Howland was both startled and alarmed at this bold and unexpected declaration, and for a time she hardly knew what to say.

At length, in a voice so changed that Andrew looked up, half wonderingly, into her face, she said--

”My son, do you love me?”

Not until the question was repeated did Andrew make any reply. Then he answered, in a low, unsteady voice, for something in her manner had touched his feelings.

”You know I love you, mother; for you are the only one who loves me.”

”For the sake, then, of that love, let me ask you to do one thing, Andrew,” said Mrs. Howland.

”What is that mother?”

”Go back to your teacher, and ask him to take you into the school again.”

A flush came warmly into the boy's face, and he shook his head in a positive manner.

<script>