all his family, he needed the pressure of immediacy to force a decision. He was offered employment on several newspapers in the State, and on the teaching staff of the run-down military academy that topped a pleasant hill two miles from town.
But in his heart he knew he was going to leave. And no one opposed him very much. Helen railed against him at times to Luke, but made only a few indifferent and unfriendly comments to himself about it. Gant moaned wearily, saying: “Let him do as he likes. I can’t pay out any more money on his education. If he wants to go, his mother must send him.” Eliza pursed her lips thoughtfully, made a bantering noise, and said:
“Hm! Harvard! That’s mighty big talk, boy. Where are you going to get the money?”
“I can get it,” he said darkly. “People will lend it to me.”
“No, son,” she said with instant grave caution. “I don’t want you to do anything like that. You mustn’t start life by accumulating debts.”
He was silent, trying to force the terrible sentence through his parched lips.
“Then,” he said finally, “why can’t I pay my way from my share in papa’s estate?”
“Why, child!” said Eliza angrily. “You talk as if we were millionaires. I don’t even know that there’s going to be any share for anybody. Your papa was persuaded into that against his better judgment,” she added fretfully.
Eugene began to beat suddenly against his ribs.
“I want to go!” he said. “I’ve got to have it now! Now!”
He was mad with a sense of frustration.
“I don’t want it when I’m rotten! I want it now! To hell with the real estate! I want none of your dirt! I hate it! Let me go!” he screamed; and in his fury he began to beat his head against the wall.
Eliza pursed her lips for a moment.
“Well,” she said, at length. “I’ll send you for a year. Then we’ll see.”
But, two or three days before his departure, Luke, who was taking Gant to Baltimore the next day, thrust a sheet of typed paper into his hand.
