And now you'll go the rest."
"I'd like to know why."
"For one reason, because I'm your guardian and I say so."
Stephen was furiously angry. His father's indulgence and his sister's
tolerance had, in most cases, made his will law in the household. To be
ordered about in this way by an ignorant interloper, as he considered
his uncle, was too much.
"By gad," he shouted, "we'll see!"
"No, we've seen. You run along now and pack your trunk. And take
my advice and study hard. You'll be behindhand in your work, so Mr.
Sylvester tells me, but you're smart, and you can catch up. Make us
proud of you; that's what you can do."
His nephew glanced at him. Captain Elisha was smiling kindly, but there
was no sign of change of purpose in his look.
Stephen ground his teeth.
"Oh," he snarled, "if it wasn't for the disgrace! If things weren't as
they are, I'd--"
"S-s-s-h! I know; but they are. Maybe I wish they wa'n't 'most as much
as you do, but they are. I don't blame you for feelin' mad now; but I'm
right and I know it. And some day you'll know it, and thank me."
"When I do, I'll be insane."
"No, you'll be older, that's all. Now pack your trunk--or get the
Commodore to pack it for you."
News from the Moriarty sick room continued favorable for a time.
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