There was a pause.
“We’ve been thinking of that,” the girl admitted slowly. “Hugh has written in to the main office. Anyway,” she said a moment later, “he’d be his own boss. That’s something.”
“Well,” said Eliza slowly, “I don’t know but what it’d be a good idea. If he works hard there’s no reason why he shouldn’t build a good business up. Your papa’s been complaining here lately about his trouble. He’d be glad to have you back.” She shook her head slowly for a moment. “Child! they didn’t do him a bit of good, up there. It’s all come back.”
They drove over to Pulpit Hill at Easter for a two days’visit. Eliza took him to Exeter and bought him a suit of clothes.
“I don’t like those skimpy trousers,” she told the salesman. “I want something that makes him look more of a man.”
When he was newly dressed, she puckered her lips, smiling, and said:
“Spruce up, boy! Throw your shoulders back! That’s one thing about your father—he carries himself straight as an arrow. If you go all humped over like that, you’ll have lung trouble before you’re twenty-five.”
“I want you to meet my mother,” he said awkwardly to Mr. Joseph Ballantyne, a smooth pink young man who had been elected president of the Freshman class.
“You’re a good smart-looking fellow,” said Eliza smiling, “I’ll make a trade with you. If you drum up some boarders for me among your friends here in this part of the State, I’ll throw in your board free. Here are some of my cards,” she added, opening her purse. “You might hand a few of them out, if you get a chance, and say a good word for Dixieland in the Land of the Sky.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Mr. Ballantyne, in a slow surprised voice, “I certainly will.”
Eugene turned a hot distressed face toward Helen. She laughed huskily, ironically, then turning to the boy, said:
“You’re welcome at any time, Mr. Ballantyne, boarders or not. We’ll always find a place for you.”
When they were alone, in answer to his stammering and confused protests, she said with an annoyed grin:
