she said calmly: "Mr. Farrington, Ralph is neither idle nor good-for-nothing."
"Huh! aint! What's he good for?"
The widow's face became momentarily glorified, the true mother love shone in the depths of her pure, clear eyes.
"He is the best son a mother ever had." She spoke with a tremor that made Ralph thrill, and must have made Farrington squirm.
"He is affectionate, obedient, considerate. And that is why I have never burdened his young shoulders with my troubles."
"It's high time, then!" snarled Farrington—"a big, overgrown bumpkin! Guess he'll shoulder some responsibility soon, or some one else will, or you'll all be without a shelter."
Ralph felt a sinking at the heart at the vague threat. He was relieved, however, as anxiously glancing at his mother's face he observed that she was not a whit disturbed or frightened.
"Mr. Farrington," she said, "Ralph has nothing to do with our business affairs, but I wish to say this: I am satisfied that my dead husband left means we have never been able to trace. It lies between your conscience and yourself to say how much more you know about this than I do. I have accepted the situation, however, and with the few dollars in ready money he left me, and
