"I think she will, for it's her object to, Master Jasper. She's married him for money, you know."
"I don't mind her benefiting by my father's property, if she will make him comfortable during his life."
"I think she will; she's too sly, and knows her own interest too well not to."
"I'm glad you think that, Margaret. I shall feel better about it."
"Then you don't think you can stay, Jasper?" said Mrs. Kent, softly, when he announced his determination.
"No, madam, I think I ought to be getting back to school."
"Perhaps you are right. We shall miss you."
"Yes, Jasper, we shall miss you," said his father.
"I will write you often, father. If you are not feeling well at any time, write and let me know."
"I will do so, Jasper," said his step-mother, promptly; "but I shall have better news to write. Your father shall have the best of care."
"Thank you, madam. If you can contribute to his comfort, you will place me under obligations to you."
"As a wife, it will be my duty as well as my pleasure to do so," said Mrs. Kent.
Jasper bowed. The suggestion of the relationship always fell unpleasantly on his ears.
The carriage came round to take Jasper to the depot. His father and step-mother looked out of the front windows, and saw him off.
"He is a noble, warm-hearted boy," said his father, warmly.
"Yes," said Mrs. Kent, assenting, because it was expected.
"Manly and high-spirited, too!" added his father, in a tone full of affectionate admiration.
"I'd like to break his spirit!" thought Mrs. Kent, spitefully. "Some time I may have the chance." Of course she didn't venture to say this. She only inquired, "Were you like him at his age, Mr. Kent?"
Mr. Kent smiled.
"I won't flatter myself so far," he answered. "Jasper is an improvement on the parent stock. I see in him more manliness and self-reliance than I possessed at his age."
"May it not be parental partiality?" asked Mrs. Kent, who by no means enjoyed hearing Jasper's praises.
"No, I don't think so."
"You must let me believe that it is your modesty then. Jasper may be a fine boy, but he will do well if he grows up as good a man as you."
"Now you flatter me, my dear," said Mr. Kent, smiling. "You have too good an opinion of me."
"I don't know about that," said Mrs. Kent to herself. "I think you are an addle-headed old fool, but I won't say so."
Aloud she said, with a smile: "My marrying you is a proof of my good opinion, Mr. Kent."
"Thank you," said her husband, politely.
He was not a suspicious man—far from it—but even he knew that his wife only married him for a home and an establishment. But he never let his mind dwell on such things, and he quietly permitted his wife's assertion to go uncontradicted.
Meanwhile Jasper Kent had returned to his boarding-school. There was one who awaited his return with mingled curiosity and exultation.
This was Nicholas Thorne.
He had received his mother's letter, from which he learned, first, that her plan had succeeded, and she was now the wife of a rich man, and, secondly, that his own relationship to her must be changed in the eyes of the world.
"I suppose mother knows what is best," he said to himself. "So I'm to be her nephew, am I? Well, it's all one to me, as long as I fare the better for her good fortune."
For the moment it occurred to him that his mother might intend to throw him off—in a measure—but he quickly laid it aside. Bad as his mother was, she was yet devoted to him, and in so far was superior to him, for he cared for himself first and for no one second. The thought originated in his own base selfishness, and was laid aside only because he had received too many proof's of his mother's affection to doubt her.
When he heard that Jasper had got back he took pains to meet him.
"Well, Kent," he said, with a show of intimacy which Jasper found very disagreeable, "what news from home?"
Jasper was about to reply abruptly, when it occurred to him that, after all, Nicholas had an interest in the matter.
"I suppose you mean to ask if your mother is well?" he said, eyeing Jasper keenly.
But Nicholas was on his guard. His mother's letter had cautioned him.
"No, I don't," he answered, impudently. "She is your mother, not mine."
"My mother!" exclaimed Jasper, coloring.
"Yes, she's your father's wife, isn't she?" said Thorne, with a leer.
"Yes, but I acknowledge no such relationship as you suggest."
"She's your step-mother, whatever you say."
"I shall never call her so. You told me before I went that she was your mother."
"I have always called her so, because I have known no other," said Thorne, composedly. "She is really my aunt."
"It must be true, then," thought Jasper. "However, it is of little importance to me what the relationship may be."
"I suppose this match makes us relations," said Thorne, smiling disagreeably.
"I don't see that it does," said Jasper, coldly.
"You'd rather it wouldn't, I suppose," sneered Thorne, provoked.
"I don't know you well enough to desire so close a connection," said Jasper, in the same cold tone.
"We shall know each other well enough some time," said Thorne, with something of menace in his tone.
Jasper turned on his heel and walked away.
CHAPTER VIII.
SUDDEN DEATH.
Two months later there was a vacation for a week. Nicholas expected to spend this with his mother, but for some reason Mrs. Kent gave him no invitation. Probably she thought that Nicholas, though a paragon in her eyes, was not likely to win favor in the eyes of Mr. Kent. His rough, brutal disposition would have repelled the sick man, who had become gentle in his enforced seclusion.
Thorne was disappointed, but his disappointment was softened by a timely remittance of ten dollars from his mother, which he spent partly in surreptitious games of billiards, partly in overloading his stomach with pastry and nearly making himself sick.
Jasper spent the week at home. His company was the source of great comfort and joy to his father, and this repaid him for the intrusion of his step-mother.
She treated him with politeness and apparent cordiality, but once or twice, when he chanced to look up unexpectedly, he detected her eyes fixed upon him with a glance that seemed to express detestation. On these occasions her expression changed instantly, and she addressed him in a soft, friendly voice.
All this puzzled him.
"Does she hate me or not?" he asked himself. "I certainly don't like her. Still, I shall force myself to treat her politely as long as she treats my father well."
His father seldom spoke of his wife to his son, but sometimes Jasper noticed that he breathed a sigh of relief when she left the room, as if her presence had been a restraint upon him.
He didn't like to ask his father any question directly as to the relations between them. He hoped that at least they did not add to his father's discomfort.
At the end of the week Jasper was about to return to school.
"How long before you have another vacation, Jasper?" asked his father, wistfully.
"Eleven weeks, father."
"It seems a long time, Jasper."
"I can come home during that time."
"To my mind such interruptions of study are bad for a boy," said Mrs. Kent.
"Perhaps they are," assented Mr. Kent, reluctantly.
"I won't let them be an interruption, father," said Jasper. "If you want me to come home, I will."
"I hope, Jasper, you will understand my motive for speaking," said Mrs. Kent, softly. "I should really be glad to see you, but sometimes we have to sacrifice our own inclinations—don't we, Mr. Kent?"
"Yes, my dear," said Mr. Kent, listlessly.
And he turned his eyes once more to Jasper, who had his overcoat on and was waiting for the carriage to convey him to the depot.
"Do you feel as well as usual, father?" asked Jasper, anxiously.
"Yes, I don't know but I do; perhaps a little more languid, but that is not unusual."
"Well, good-bye, father. If you want to see me at any time, write a line, and I'll come at once."
"Thank you, my dear boy. Don't overwork yourself at school."
There was a slight smile on Mrs. Kent's thin lips. Jasper noticed and mentally resented it. But the time had come for leave-taking, and he hurried away.
Six weeks passed. Jasper heard from home that his father was about the same, and this assurance relieved him of anxiety. Still, he made up his mind that he would spend the next Sunday at home. He would go on Saturday morning and come back on Monday morning, and he knew that his father would enjoy even this brief visit. But he was destined to go home quicker.
On Thursday afternoon a boy came up to the main entrance of Dr. Benton's school.
"It's the boy from the telegraph office," said Wilder to Jasper.
"I wonder whether he's got a message for the doctor or one of us boys?" said Jasper, not suspecting that it was for himself.
"I'll ask," said Wilder. "Here, you, boy! who's your telegram for?"
"For Jasper Kent," said the boy. "Will you call him?"
"I am he," said Jasper, hurrying forward, with pale face and beating heart, for a telegram always inspires fear.
"Then here it is. Just sign the book," said the boy.
Jasper scrawled his name hurriedly and tore open the envelope.
These were the brief words of the dispatch:
"Come home, for the Lord's sake, Master Jasper. Your father's dying.
"Margaret Bower."
The paper swam before Jasper's eyes.
"What is it, Jasper—bad news?" asked Wilder; but Jasper did not wait to answer. He rushed to Dr. Benton's office, got his permission to go home, packed his valise, and in five minutes was on his way to the depot.
He was just in time for the afternoon train. At seven o'clock in the evening he entered the avenue that led to his father's house. Throwing open the front door, he met Margaret in the hall.
"I'm glad you're here, Master Jasper," said the faithful handmaiden, heartily.
"Is it too late?"
"I hope not; indeed, I hope not."
Jasper waited for no more, but rushed up stairs and into his father's room.
There were two persons there—the step-mother and a man of thirty, with black whiskers and sallow complexion, with whom she was talking earnestly. They, started when Jasper entered, and looked discouraged. Mrs. Kent looked displeased and annoyed.
"How is my father?" exclaimed Jasper, excitedly.
"Hush! He is very low," said Mrs. Kent "You shouldn't have dashed in here so abruptly."
"Is there no hope for him?" asked the boy, sorrowfully.
"No, my young friend," said the man, smoothly. "All has been done that human skill can do, but without avail."
"Are you the doctor?"
"I am."
"Where is Dr. Graham, my father's old doctor?"
"I dismissed him," said his step-mother, "He was not competent to attend so critical a case. This is Dr. Kenyon."
"I never before heard Dr. Graham's skill doubted," said Jasper. "Is my father conscious?"
"No; he is under the influence of morphine. Do not wake him up."
"Was he, then, in great pain?"
"Yes, in great pain."
Quietly Jasper drew near the bedside.
His father lay unconscious, his form rigid, his face thin and betraying marks of weariness and suffering. The tears rose to the eyes of Jasper as he realized that his father was passing away. As he looked on there was a slight convulsive movement; then repose. In that one moment his father had passed on to another world.
The doctor had approached the bedside also, and he, too, saw the movement.
"He is dead!" he announced.
"Dead!" repeated Mrs. Kent, in a voice rather of surprise than of sorrow.
"Yes."
"Well," she said, coolly, "we must all die. We have the satisfaction of knowing that we have done all we could do to preserve his life."
"Certainly, my dear madam; you may comfort yourself by that thought," said the physician.
"Why did you not send for me before?" asked Jasper, turning with moist eyes to his step-mother, "that I might see my father before he died?"
"We could not foresee his sudden death," said Mrs. Kent. "How do you happen to be here this afternoon?"
"Didn't you direct Margaret to telegraph for me?" asked Jasper, surprised.
"Did Margaret take upon herself to telegraph to you?" asked Mrs. Kent, in a tone of displeasure.
"Yes," said Jasper, bitterly. "Did you mean to keep me wholly unacquainted with my father's illness?"
"No; I wrote a line this afternoon, which I should have sent to the office at once."
"When it was too late!"
"Your reproaches are unseemly and uncalled for," said his step-mother, quite coldly.
"I think differently," said Jasper, bitterly. "You should have sent for me as soon as my father got worse than usual."
"In consideration of your grief I will overlook your impertinence," said Mrs. Kent, compressing her thin lips, as she left the room.
The doctor followed her out, and Jasper was left alone with the dead.
He did not realize it, but his father's death was to seriously affect his fortunes.
CHAPTER IX.
A DECLARATION OF WAR.
Half an hour later Jasper left the room where his father lay dead. He did not seek the presence of his step-mother, who, he felt, had done him wrong in keeping from him his father's condition. He went instead to the kitchen, where he found Margaret.
"This is a sad day for you, Master Jasper," said the sympathizing servant.
"It is, indeed, Margaret. I have lost my best friend."
"True for you."
"But for your telegram, I should not have known even now that he was dangerously ill, I thought at first Mrs. Kent asked you to telegraph."
"No, she didn't. I asked her would she send for you, and she told me it was none of my business."
"It was lucky you didn't heed her," said Jasper. "She is a cold, unfeeling woman."
"That she is, Master Jasper," assented Margaret, with emphasis.
"How long has my father been so sick?"
"For a week or more, but he took a sudden turn at the last. I think he got worse after the new doctor came."
"I wanted to ask you about that. Why was Dr. Graham dismissed? He has attended my father for years."
"Shall I tell you what I think, Master Jasper?" said Margaret, stopping short in her work, and looking mysterious.
"Yes."
"Let me whisper it, then. Come nearer, Master Jasper."
Rather surprised at her manner, Jasper obeyed.
"It's my belief," she whispered, "that your step-mother didn't want your father to get well."
Jasper looked horror-struck.
"Are you crazy, Margaret?" he ejaculated.
She nodded her head positively.
"I know what I'm saying," she answered.
"But what can make you believe such a horrible thing?" he asked.
She answered in the same low voice:
"A month ago she got your father to make his will. What there is in it I don't know, but it is likely it suits her. After that she had nothing to gain by his living."
"You don't think she'd—" Jasper hesitated to proceed.
"Poison him? No, I don't. It wasn't needful; but your papa was that delicate, it would be enough if he was not rightly treated, and I don't believe this new doctor did the right thing by him. Dr. Graham and Mrs. Kent never could agree, but she and the new doctor have been as thick as can be. They understand one another, I'll be bound."
Jasper looked shocked, and was silent for a moment.
"I don't like Mrs. Kent," he said, "but, Margaret, I hope you're wrong in this. That any one could wish my dear, gentle father dead I find it hard to believe."
"You haven't seen as much of your step-mother as I have, Master Jasper."
"Heaven grant you are wrong, Margaret! If I thought it were true I should never want to look at the woman again."
"Hush!" said Margaret, suddenly putting her hand on her lip.
Jasper understood her caution, when he saw his step-mother enter the kitchen. She looked from one to the other with a suspicious glance.
"This is a strange place for you, Jasper," said she, in slow, cold accents.
"I don't see why, madam," he answered, in a voice equally cold.
"I find you—a young gentleman—conferring with a servant."
"With a trusted servant, who has been in our family for years. Nothing could be more natural."
"I don't agree with you," said Mrs. Kent, in a chilly tone.
"I am unfortunate in not winning your approbation," said Jasper, not caring to suppress the sarcasm.
"It strikes me you are impertinent," said Mrs. Kent.
She had thrown off the mask. During her husband's life she had taken special pains to be polite to Jasper, though in so doing she did violence to her feelings. There was no more to be gained by it, and she had changed suddenly. Jasper could not help alluding to it.
"How happens it, madam," he said, "that your treatment of me has changed so entirely since my father's death? Brief as the interval is, you have lost no time."
There was hatred in the glance she shot at him.
"I was silent out of regard to your father, who was blind to your faults," she answered. "You must not expect me to be equally blind."
"I don't, madam."
"Do you intend to remain in the kitchen?" demanded Mrs. Kent
"I was questioning Margaret about my father's last days."
"I am the proper one to question."
"Would you have afforded me the information I desired?"
"If the questions you asked were of a proper character."
"Mrs. Kent, I will take you at your word. How does it happen that you dismissed Dr. Graham, my father's old family physician?"
His step-mother hesitated and looked angry, but she replied, after a brief pause:
"He did not understand the case."
"What makes you think so? He certainly ought to understand my father's constitution."
"Perhaps he ought, but he didn't," said Mrs. Kent, sharply.
"You haven't given any reason."
"I have given all I choose. I don't mean to be catechised by a boy."
"Who is this Dr. Kenyon whom you called in afterward?"
"A very skilful physician."
"He looks young."
"He has a high reputation."
"When did he assume charge of my father's case?"
"A week ago."
"And since then he has grown steadily worse."
"Who told you that?" demanded Mrs. Kent, sharply.
"Is it not true?"
"Did Margaret tell you this?"
"I did," said Margaret, quietly.
"I shall remember this," said Mrs. Kent, spitefully.
"I didn't need to ask Margaret," said Jasper, "when my father lies dead after a week's treatment by this skilful physician."
Mrs. Kent was white with anger.
"You ought to know that life and death are in the power of no doctor," she said, for, angry as she was, she saw that it was necessary to reply to what Jasper said. "In sending for Dr. Kenyon I did not much expect that he would cure your father, but I felt that it was my duty to give him this last chance. Unfortunately he was too far gone."
"You thought that matters were as bad as that a week ago, and yet you didn't send for me?" exclaimed Jasper.
"It would have done no good," said she, coldly.
"But it would have been a satisfaction to me to see something of him in his last sickness. Mrs. Kent, you haven't treated me right in this matter."
"Is that the way for a boy to talk to his—elder?"
"Yes, if he says only what is strictly true."
"I shall not continue this conversation," said Mrs. Kent, haughtily, "nor shall I submit to be talked to in this style. It is not for your interest to make me your enemy," she added, significantly.
Jasper was frank and fearless by temperament, and anything in the shape of a menace roused his high spirit.
"That consideration doesn't weigh with me a particle," he said, hastily.
"We will see," she retorted, and with a look of anger she swept from the room.
"Margaret," said Jasper, abruptly, "did you go into my father's sick-chamber at any time?"
"Yes, Master Jasper."
"Did you ever hear my father inquire after me?"
"I heard him say more than once, with a sigh like, that he wished to see you."
"And she wouldn't send for me!" exclaimed Jasper, bitterly.
"She always opposed it, saying it wouldn't do no good, and would only take you off your studies."
"Much she cared for my studies! Margaret, I will never forgive that woman, never!"
"Well, I can't blame you, Master Jasper."
Here Margaret heard her name called in a loud voice, and was forced to obey.
"She wants to separate us," thought Jasper, as he slowly and sadly went up to his own chamber.
CHAPTER X.
NICHOLAS APPEARS UPON THE SCENE.
The funeral was over. Mrs. Kent was considered by those present to display a great deal of fortitude. As she felt no real grief for the death of her husband, this was not remarkable. Jasper looked pale and sorrowful, but gave way to no violent demonstrations of sorrow, though he began to understand that he had not only lost his best friend, but become at the same time exposed to the machinations of a resolute and relentless enemy.
In due time the will was read.
It was very brief, and clear in its provisions.
To Mrs. Kent was left one-third of the estate, real and personal, of which the deceased was possessed, and the balance was willed to his only child and dear son Jasper, of whom his step-mother was left guardian.
When this clause was read Mrs. Kent directed a brief and triumphant glance at Jasper. He met the glance, and understood what it meant. He knew that it boded him no good.
The company assembled gradually dispersed, and Jasper was left alone with his step-mother.
"You see that I am left your guardian," she said.
"Yes," answered Jasper, briefly.
"Perhaps you would have chosen a different one if the choice had been left to you," she continued, with a sneer.
"I should," said Jasper, promptly.
"Well, that is plain language."
"I suppose you expected a plain answer," said the boy, firmly.
"I did not expect a polite one. You appear to forget that I am a lady."
"You are mistaken, madam. I am ready to treat you as well as you treat me. I won't pretend that I like your guardianship, as I fear that we shall not agree."
"If we don't, you will have to yield," said his step-mother.
"I would rather not dispute till it is absolutely necessary," said Jasper. "May I ask whether you desire me to return to school?"
"I have not made up my mind. I may be able to tell you to-morrow."
"Until you make up your mind you expect me to remain at home, I suppose?"
"Yes."
Jasper bowed and turned away. He went down stairs into the hall just as the front door was opened, and the familiar voice of Nicholas Thorne was heard. Jasper stared in some surprise at the intruder, not knowing that he was expected.
"Halloo, Jasper!" said Thorne, boisterously. "How are you?"
"I am well," said Jasper, distantly.
"Where's mother?"
"Your mother? Your aunt, you mean."
"No, I don't. That's all gammon. She's my mother."
"She is!" exclaimed Jasper. "What made you deny it, then?"
"Policy," said Thorne, laughing. "Your father might not have liked it. Now it's all right."
"Did your mother send for you?" asked Jasper.
"Yes, of course she did. This is to be my home now."
Jasper made no comment. What could he say? If Thorne were his step-mother's son, it was only natural that he should live in the house of which she was mistress.
But it seemed to him as if he were being pushed out of his own father's house, and these strangers were coming in to occupy it He felt that it would no longer seem like home to him.
"Well, where's my mother?" asked Thorne.
"She's up stairs. Shall I show you the way?"
"If you're a mind to. I guess I'll know my own way round here pretty soon."
"What a detestable fellow!" thought Jasper. "I am afraid we shall quarrel soon."
He led the way up stairs, and ushered Nicholas into his mother's presence.
This uncouth boy was the one object this selfish woman loved. She uttered an exclamation of delight.
"Welcome home, my dear Nicholas!" she exclaimed, advancing hastily and throwing her arms round his neck.
He received the embrace apathetically, but made no opposition, as at another time he might have done. He felt on good terms with his mother and the whole world, in the face of the brilliant improvement of his prospects.
"Are you well, my dear boy?" asked Mrs. Kent.
"Oh, I'm well enough, mother. This is a splendid old place, isn't it?"
Mrs. Kent laughed at Jasper.
"Yes, it is a fine country-place."
Jasper left the two, and went down stairs.
"Say, mother, how about the will?" asked Thorne. "Is it all right?"
"A third of the estate is left to me."
"Only a third! Does Jasper get the rest?"
"Yes."
"That's a shame. You ought to have had half."
"I shall have control of the whole till Jasper is of age. I am left his guardian."
"That's good, anyhow. You must make him toe the mark, mother."
"I mean to."
"He's always had his own way, and he may give you trouble. He feels high and mighty. I can tell you."
"I shall know how to deal with him," said Mrs. Kent, closing her thin lips resolutely. "He will find me as firm as himself."
"I guess that's so, mother. You'll prove a tough customer."
Mrs. Kent smiled, as if she enjoyed the compliment.
"I'll stand by you, mother. If you have any trouble, just call me in."
"I don't expect to need any help, Nicholas; but I am glad to find I have a brave son, who will stand by his mother."
Certainly no one believed in Nicholas so thoroughly as his mother. To the world generally he was a cowardly bully, rough, brutal, and selfish. In his mother's eyes he was manly and a paragon of youthful virtue. I have already said that Thorne's affection for his mother was far less disinterested, as is very apt to be the case with boys. His intention to benefit by the change of circumstances was shown at once.
"What allowance are you going to give me, mother?" he asked.
"I have not thought, yet, Nicholas."
"Then I want you to think, mother."
"How much do you want?"
"I want as much as Jasper gets."
"You shall receive as much," said his mother, promptly. "Do you know how much he has received?"
"Yes—he has had five dollars a week."
"That's too much."
"It isn't too much for me."
"I shall reduce his allowance to three dollars a week."
"You don't expect me to get along on three dollars?" grumbled Thorne.
"I will give you five."
"And Jasper only three?"
"Yes."
"Won't he be mad!" exclaimed Nicholas, with malicious satisfaction. "What'll you say to him about it?"
"I shall merely announce my decision," said Mrs. Kent, coolly. "I am not bound to assign any reasons."
"Won't there be a precious row!" said Thorne.
"I presume he will complain, but he has not conducted himself toward me in a manner to secure any favors."
"I say, mother, can you give me my first week's allowance in advance? I'm awful hard up."
"Here, my son," said Mrs. Kent, drawing out her pocket-book and placing a five-dollar bill in her son's hand.
"Good for you, mother. When are you going to have supper?"
"In an hour."
"How much property did the old man leave?"
"The estate is probably fully up to one hundred thousand dollars. This place is worth fifteen thousand. The rest is in good interest-paying stocks and bonds."
"And a third belongs to you! I say, mother, you've feathered your nest well. I guess I'll go out and take a look round."
In the rear of the house, in front of the stable, Nicholas caught sight of Jasper.
He smiled maliciously.
"I'll go and tell him about the reduction in his allowance," he said to himself.
CHAPTER XI.
THE OUTBREAK OF HOSTILITIES.
Jasper was quietly thinking over his change of circumstances when he was roused by a rather violent slap on the shoulder.
Turning hastily, he saw that it was Nicholas.
"I say, this is a jolly place, Jasper," said Thorne.
"Yes," said Jasper. "It has been my home as far back as I can remember."
"That's where you have the advantage of me, but after all it doesn't make much difference, as long as it's going to be my home now."
Jasper didn't reply.
"I say, Kent, it seems odd that me and you are brothers," said Thorne, not very grammatically.
"We are not," said Jasper, quickly.
"It's all the same—we've got the same mother."
"You are mistaken," said Jasper, coldly.
"You know what I mean. She's my mother and your step-mother."
"That's very different. Besides, the relationship is so very recent that I find it hard to think of your mother as any relation at all."
"She is, though. I suppose me and you will be a good deal together now."
"I don't know what my future plans will be," said Jasper, not very much elated by this prospect.
"No, I suppose not. Mother'll arrange about them. How much allowance did your father use to give you?"
Jasper thought at first of refusing to reply, but it occurred to him that under the new and strange circumstances it was not an improper question for Nicholas to ask. He therefore decided to reply.
"Five dollars a week," he answered.
"When was it paid?"
"On Saturday."
"See here," said Thorne, drawing from his vest pocket the five-dollar bill his mother had given him.
"What of it?" said Jasper.
"It's my allowance for this week," said Thorne, triumphantly.
"I congratulate you," said Jasper, coldly.
"That's kind in you," returned Thorne, with a sneer, "especially as you are cut down."
"What do you mean?" asked Jasper, hastily.
"Mother says five dollars a week is too much for you. She's going to cut you down to three."
The indignant color came to Jasper's cheek. Was this interloper—this stranger—to be preferred to him in his own father's house? He was not excessively fond of money, and had there been need would not have objected to a reduction of his allowance. But to be deprived of his rights in favor of a fellow like Thorne was intolerable. If Nicholas wished to annoy and anger him, he had succeeded.
"Who told you this?" demanded Jasper, sharply.
"My mother," answered Nicholas, with a gratified smile.
"When?"
"About fifteen minutes ago," replied Thorne, with provoking coolness.
"I don't think she would do anything so outrageous."
"Don't you? You'll find mother's got plenty of grit."
"So have I," said Jasper, his face hardening. "If your mother undertakes to wrong me she will repent it."
"You had better not say that to her," said Thorne, insolently.
"I shall when the proper time comes. My allowance is not due yet. I don't care for the money, but my father knew what it was proper for me to have."
"There's going to be a row," thought Nicholas, with satisfaction. "I'll bet on mother. She'll put down this whipper-snapper."
Jasper turned away, and walked out of the yard.
"Where are you going?" asked Thorne.
"To walk."
"I guess I'll go along, too."
"I would rather go alone."
"You're not very polite."
"Excuse me," said Jasper, with the instinct of a gentleman. "You would find me very poor company. Another time we will walk together."
"Oh, just as you like; I don't want to intrude," said Thorne, sulkily.
They did not meet again till supper. Mrs. Kent presided. On one side sat Nicholas, on the other Jasper. Our hero looked sad. The kind, worn face he was accustomed to see at the head of the table was gone forever. He felt that he was indeed desolate. His appetite was very small, while, on the other hand, Nicholas seemed to be famished. His mother kept plying him with dainties and tidbits, and he appeared to like the treatment amazingly.
"Why don't you eat, Jasper?" asked Thorne with his mouth full.
"I am not hungry."
"I should think your walk might have given you an appetite."
"It doesn't appear to."
"You look awful glum. Is it what I said this afternoon?"
"About what?"
"Your allowance being cut down."
"I wasn't thinking about that particularly. Besides, you are not the one from whom I expect to receive such communications."
"It's all true, though, as you will find. Ain't it, mother?" persisted Nicholas, who was anxious to have the row come off as soon as possible.
Jasper turned his glance upon Mrs. Kent.
"You needn't have introduced the subject, Nicholas," she said, with slight reproof.
"Why not, mother?"
"It isn't a proper subject to introduce at the supper-table."
"You see, Jasper didn't half believe what I told him."
"He may rely upon your statement," said Mrs. Kent.
"Am I to understand that my allowance is reduced to three dollars a week?" asked Jasper, who felt that he had been dragged into the discussion.
"Yes. I consider that three dollars a week is a liberal allowance for a boy of your age."
"My father gave me five."
"Your father acted according to his judgment," said Mrs. Kent, coldly. "On some points I differ from him in judgment. I think that he indulged you too much, probably because you were his only child."
"He was always kind to me," said Jasper. "It was his nature to be kind."
"You will find me kind, too, if you deserve it," said his step-mother. But her tone belied her words.
"Nicholas tells me that his allowance is to be five dollars," said Jasper.
"I conceive that the amount of his allowance has nothing to do with yours," said Mrs. Kent.
"Is it true?" persisted Jasper.
"It is," said Mrs. Kent, with a defiant look, which Jasper interpreted to mean "What are you going to do about it?"
"Why is he to receive five dollars, if I am only to get three?"
"Because I choose."
"You have answered rightly," said Jasper, scornfully. "Even you are unable to defend it on the score of fairness or justice."
Mrs. Kent's thin lips compressed.
"Audacious boy!" she exclaimed, "do you dare to speak to me in this style?"
"I am not aware of any impropriety, madam. I am protesting against your unjust partiality for Nicholas."
"He is my son."
"I am aware of that; but the money out of which the allowance is paid came to you from my father."
"Do you dare to continue your impertinent remarks?" exclaimed his step-mother, pale with rage.
"Madam, I am only stating the truth," said Jasper, sturdily. "You cannot expect me to submit tamely to such an injustice. Had you reduced my allowance and given Nicholas no more I would have let it pass."
"I won't submit to this impertinence!" exclaimed Mrs. Kent, furiously. "Nicholas, will you sit there and see your mother insulted?"
"What do you want me to do, mother?" asked Thorne, not exactly liking the turn matters had taken.
"Put that unmannerly boy out of the room."
"Oh, there ain't any need of that," said Thorne, who knew by experience Jasper's strength.
"Do as I say, or I will give you no allowance at all!" said Mrs. Kent, stamping her foot angrily.
Nicholas unwillingly arose from his seat and approached Jasper.
"You'd better not try it, Thorne," said Jasper, coolly.
"Do you hear that, sir? He has insulted you, too," said Mrs. Kent, in a furious passion.
It was these words, perhaps, that spurred Nicholas to his task. Jasper had now risen, and Thorne threw himself upon him.
But Jasper was prepared. In less time than I have required to tell it, Thorne found himself prostrate on the floor.
"Madam," said Jasper, turning to his step-mother, "I am ready to leave your presence now, but of my own accord."
He left the room. Mrs. Kent was too astonished to speak. She had felt no doubt that Nicholas was more than a match for Jasper, as he certainly was bigger, and weighed twenty pounds more.
"My poor boy!" she said, pitifully, bending over her son; "are you much hurt?"
"Yes," said Nicholas; "and it's all on account of you!"
"I thought you were stronger than he."
"So I am, but he knows how to wrestle; besides, he's so quick."
"I thought you could have put him out easily."
"Well, don't set me to doing it again," said Thorne, sulkily. "I didn't want to fight. You made me."
"Don't mind it, my dear boy. It was because I was angry with him."
"Oh, how my head aches!"
"I'll put on some cologne. I'll give you an extra five dollars, too, for standing by your mother."
"All right, mother," said Thorne, in a more cheerful tone. "That's the way to talk. Give it to me now."
Jasper did not see either of them again that evening. He called on a friend, and, entering the house at ten o'clock, went directly to his own room.
CHAPTER XII.
A SCHEME OF VENGEANCE.
Mrs. Kent had never cared for Jasper. Since the marriage she had disliked him. Now that he had struck down Nicholas in her presence, she positively hated him. She did not stop to consider that he was provoked to it, and only acted in self-defense. She thirsted for revenge—more, indeed, than Nicholas, who, bully as he was, having been fairly worsted, was disposed to accept his defeat philosophically. If he could annoy or thwart Jasper he would have been glad to do it, but he did not desire to injure him physically.
Not so Mrs. Kent.
Her darling had been assaulted and defeated in her presence. She did not again wish to put him against Jasper lest he should be again defeated, but she wished Jasper, her detested step-son, to drink the same cup of humiliation which had been forced upon Nicholas.
So she sat pondering how to accomplish the object she had in view. She could not herself beat Jasper, though, had he been younger and smaller, she would certainly have attempted it. She must do it by deputy.
Under the circumstances she thought of Tom Forbes, a strong and stalwart hired man, who had been for some months working on the place. Probably he would not like the task, but she would threaten to discharge him if he refused to obey her commands, and this, she thought, would bring him around.
"I wonder where Jasper is?" said Nicholas, about eight o'clock, as he sat opposite the little table where his mother was sewing.
"Gone out, I suppose," said Mrs. Kent.
"He found the house too hot to hold him," suggested Thorne.
"He certainly will if he conducts himself in the future as he has already done. He makes a mistake if he thinks I will tolerate such conduct."
"It's because you're a woman," said her son. "Boys of his age don't make much account of women."
"Do you speak for yourself as well as for him?" asked Mrs. Kent, sharply.
"Of course not," said Nicholas, whose interest it was to keep on good terms with his mother. "Of course not; besides, you are my mother."
"You are much more of a gentleman than Jasper is," said his mother, appeased.
"I hope so," said Nicholas.
"As for him, I consider him a young ruffian."
"So he is," said Thorne, who was ready to assent to anything that his mother might say.
"And yet his father thought him a paragon!" continued Mrs. Kent, her lip curling. "It is strange how parents can be deceived!"
Unconsciously she illustrated the truth of this remark in her own person. She considered Nicholas handsome, spirited, and amiable—indeed, as an unusually fascinating and attractive boy. To others he was big, overgrown, malicious, and stupid. But then mothers are apt to look through different spectacles from the rest of the world.
"I guess Jasper'll want to change his guardian," said Thorne, laughing. "You and he won't hitch horses very well."
"Don't use such a common expression, Nicholas. I want you to grow up a well-bred gentleman."
"Oh, well, I mean to. But I say, if his father liked him so much, what made him appoint you to take care of him?"
"He didn't know how I felt toward Jasper. I humored his fancies, and treated him better than I felt toward him."
"Then you wanted to be his guardian?"
"Yes, I wanted to pay off old scores," said Mrs. Kent, again compressing her lips with unpleasant firmness.
"What made you dislike him?" asked her son, with curiosity.
"He was opposed to my marriage. He would have stopped it if he could, but there I got the better of him. When he found that he was too late he treated me with coldness. He never liked me."
"By Jove! I don't think he's had much reason," said Nicholas, laughing boisterously.
"He'll regret not having treated me with more attention. I can thwart all his plans and make his life very uncomfortable."
"I'll trust you to do that, mother. You've got spunk enough."
"Don't say 'spunk,' Nicholas."
"What shall I say, then?"
"Resolution—firmness."
"It's all the same."
"There is a choice in words. Remember, my dear boy, I want you to be a refined and cultivated gentleman."
"Well, I can be, now you're rich. But I say, mother, what are you going to do? You ain't going to stick down in this dull place all your life, are you?"
"No, Nicholas. In the summer we'll go travelling."
"Good!" exclaimed Nicholas, with satisfaction. "Where will we go?"
"How would you like to go to Niagara Falls?"
"Bully!"
"Or to Saratoga?"
"I don't know much about that."
"It is a fashionable place."
"Can a fellow have fun there?"
"Of course he can."
"Then I'd like to go. But I say, are you going to take Jasper, too?"
"No," said Mrs. Kent, decidedly. "I certainly shall not give him so much pleasure."
"I don't know. I might like it better if I had a fellow of my own age to go around with."
"You will find plenty of companions more agreeable than Jasper."
"All right, mother. I suppose you know best."
"You can trust me to provide for your happiness, Nicholas. It is all I live for."
The next morning Mrs. Kent arose early, and summoned the hired man, Tom Forbes.
"Tom," said she, "have you a good whip?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"And a strong arm?"
"Middlin', ma'am," answered the wondering hired man.
"I want you to be in the kitchen, provided with your whip, when breakfast is over."
"What for?" asked Tom, in surprise.
"Never mind now. I shall inform you at the time."
"All right, ma'am."
Twenty minutes later, Jasper, unaware of his step-mother's benevolent intentions, took his seat at the breakfast-table.
CHAPTER XIII.
MRS. KENT IS FOILED.
Breakfast was a quiet meal. Mrs. Kent preserved a frigid silence toward Jasper, interrupted only by necessary questions. Nicholas, who understood that there was a row in prospect, occasionally smiled as he looked across the table at Jasper, but he, too, was silent.
When breakfast was over, and the three arose from the table, Mrs. Kent said, in a cold voice:
"Jasper Kent, I have something to say to you."
"Very well," said Jasper, taking a seat and looking expectant.
"Yesterday you conducted yourself in a most improper manner."
"Please explain," said Jasper, quietly.
"You ought not to require any explanation. You made an assault upon Nicholas."
"I beg pardon, Mrs. Kent, but he made an assault upon me."
"You knocked him down."
"Not until he attacked me."
"He did so by my direction."
"Did you expect me to make no resistance?" asked Jasper.
"You had insulted me, and it was his duty, as my son, to resent it."
"I don't think you have any right to say that I insulted you, and you would not have any reason to complain of me if you would treat me with ordinary justice and politeness."
"You are insulting me now," said Mrs. Kent, angrily.
"I am telling the truth. I am sorry that it is the truth. I would prefer to live on good terms with you."
"And have your own way!" said his step-mother, sarcastically. "I understand you, but I will have you know that I am mistress in this house. Are you ready to apologize for having attacked Nicholas?"
"I did not wish to do it, especially as he didn't attack me of his own accord, but if he should do so again I should act in the same manner."
"Insolent!" exclaimed his step-mother, reddening.
"You have peculiar ideas of insolence," said Jasper, quietly. "I believe in defending myself, but I shouldn't like to harm Nicholas."
"You have undertaken to rebel against my authority," said Mrs. Kent, "but you don't understand me. I am not to be bullied or overcome by a boy."
"You are in no danger of either from me, madam."
"I shall take care not to give you the power. Nicholas, call Tom."
Jasper looked at his step-mother in amazement. What had Tom Forbes to do with their colloquy.
Nicholas opened the door of the adjoining room, the kitchen, and summoned the hired man.
Ignorant of why he was wanted, for Mrs. Kent had not informed him, he came into the room, and looked about with a perplexed expression.
He was a tall, strong-looking fellow, country-bred, of about twenty-five or six.
"Where is your whip, Tom?" demanded Mrs. Kent.
"My whip?" repeated Tom.
"Yes; didn't I tell you I wanted you to have it?"
"Yes, ma'am; it's in the kitchen."
"Bring it."
Tom went into the kitchen, and returned bringing the whip.
"What am I to do with it?" he asked.
"I will tell you in a moment. Jasper Kent," said his step-mother, turning to him, "you have rebelled against my just authority, you have insulted me in my own house, you have made a brutal attack upon my son in my presence, and now I am going to have you punished. Tom, I order you to give Jasper half a dozen lashes with your whip."
It is hard to tell which looked the more surprised at this brutal command, Jasper or the hired man. They looked at each other in amazement, but Tom did not stir.
"Did you hear me?" asked Mrs. Kent, sharply, impatient of the delay.
"Yes, ma'am, I heard you," answered Tom, slowly.
"Why don't you obey, then?" she continued, in the same tone.
"Because," said Tom, with manly independence, "I didn't hire out to do anything of the kind."
"Do you refuse?"
"Yes, I do. You may do your own dirty work."
"It seems you are not only disobedient, but insolent," said Mrs. Kent, angrily.
"You must be crazy, ma'am!" said the hired man, bluntly.
"No more of this. I discharge you from my employment."
"What! for not flogging Master Jasper?"
"For not obeying me."
"I'll follow your directions, ma'am, so far as they are in the line of duty, but I won't do that."
"I discharge you."
"As to that, ma'am, if I go, I'll let everybody in the village know why you sent me away."
For this Mrs. Kent was not altogether prepared. She knew that it was not prudent to defy public opinion. Perhaps she had already gone too far. She put a great constraint upon herself, and said:
"Go back to your work. I will speak of this matter hereafter."
Tom withdrew at once, glad of the opportunity. Thus far Mrs. Kent had been foiled, and she knew it. She could scarcely conceal her mortification.
Jasper, who had been passive thus far, now spoke. He felt outraged and disgusted by his step-mother's brutal purpose, though it had failed.
"Mrs. Kent," he said with quiet resolution, "after the scene of this morning I cannot remain in the same house with you. My father has not been dead a week, yet you have treated me in a manner which, though I never liked you, I could not have thought possible. You are left my guardian. I do not wish to remain another day in this house. Have I your permission to return to school?"
"No," said his step-mother.
"Why not?"
"Because you wish it. I do not mean to let you have your own way."
"I am willing to go to another school, if you insist upon it."
"You will go to no school. You will stay here."
"In this house?"
"Yes."
"With the opinion which you have of me, Mrs. Kent, I should hardly think this would be very agreeable to you."
"It will not. I hate the sight of you!" said his step-mother, with energy.
"I am sorry for that, but I am not surprised. From the way you have treated me, I should think so. Won't it be better for as both to be separated?"
"It will gratify your wishes, and therefore I order you to remain here."
"That we may have more such scenes as yesterday and to-day?"
"No; I am determined to break your rebellious will, and teach you to obey me implicitly."
"I have only to ask if you have fully made up your mind," said Jasper, quietly, but with suppressed excitement.
"I mean precisely what I say."
"Then, madam, I shall have to leave this house and go out into the world. I shall find more kindness among strangers than here."
"I have heard boys talk like this before," said Mrs. Kent, with contemptuous incredulity.
"Boys sometimes mean what they say," retorted Jasper.
He took his hat and left the room without another word.
"I say, mother," said Nicholas, "suppose he don't come back?"
"There's no fear of that," said Mrs. Kent, coldly.
"But I say, mother, he's pretty plucky, Jasper is."
"He won't run away from me as long as I have charge of his property, you may be sure of that. He'll be coming back and apologizing pretty soon."
"Suppose he doesn't?"
"Then it'll be his own fault."
"You may as well let him go back to school, mother. He'll be out of our way, and we can enjoy ourselves."
"I am not going to gratify him so far. He has defied me and insulted me, and he must take the consequences," said Mrs. Kent, with a compression of her thin lips.
On the whole, Jasper's prospects could not be said to be very flattering.
CHAPTER XIV.
MEDIATION.
When Jasper left the house he bent his steps to the dwelling of a friend of his father, Otis Miller, a man of considerable property and good position. He found Mr. Miller at home.
"I am glad to see you, Jasper," said he, cordially.
"Thank you, sir."
"You have met with a great loss," said Mr. Miller, attributing Jasper's serious expression to his father's death.
"Yes, sir; I am only just beginning to understand how much."
"A father's place cannot be supplied."
"No, sir; but this is not the extent of my trouble."
"Can I do anything to help you?"
"Yes, sir. I am very much in need of advice."
"I shall be glad to give you the best I can, Jasper. I was your father's friend, and I shall be glad to be yours also."
"Thank you, sir. My troubles are connected with my step-mother, who treats me like an enemy."
"Can this be so?" asked Mr. Miller, in surprise.
"I will tell you all, and then ask your advice."
"Do so."
Jasper told the story briefly and without excitement. It was only in his step-mother's presence that he felt disturbed.
"I have met your step-mother, but I know very little of her," said Mr. Miller. "She never impressed me very favorably, but I never dreamed that she would act in such an unreasonable manner. Perhaps even now matters are not as bad as you think. Sometimes people say things in anger which they repent of in their cooler moments."
"I don't think it is the case with Mrs. Kent."
"It is unfortunate, since she is your guardian."
"I wish you were my guardian, Mr. Miller."
"For your sake, Jasper, I wish I were. I don't think we should quarrel."
"I know we should not."
"You wish to know what to do?"
"Yes."
"You are quite sure you cannot stay at home?"
"I should be subject to constant persecution from Mrs. Kent."
"You think she would not allow you to go back to school?"
"She has refused to do so."
"There is one thing she cannot do, and that is, keep your portion of the estate from you when you become of age."
"No, I suppose not."
"You will then be rich."
"But the money won't do me any good now, will it?"
"In this way it will. Suppose I agree to pay your expenses at school—that is to say, advancing the money, to be repaid when you obtain yours?"
"That would be very kind, Mr. Miller; but I shouldn't like to subject you to that risk."
"You mean that a minor's promise would be invalid? Well, Jasper, I have too much confidence in you to have any doubt of your integrity."
"Thank you, Mr. Miller; but suppose I should die before attaining my majority?"
"Then I should probably lose the money."
"That is what I thought of. I should not like to have you run the risk."
"But I am willing to do so. However, it may be as well to ascertain definitely your step-mother's intentions first. I will call upon her in your interest and find out."
"Thank you, sir. I should like to have you do so, as I don't want to act too hastily."
"I will go at once. Will you remain here till I return?"
"Yes, sir."
When Mrs. Kent was told that Mr. Miller had called to see her she went down to meet him, not surmising his errand.
"Mrs. Kent," said he, after the ordinary greetings were over, "I have called with reference to your relations to your late husband's son, Jasper."
"Did he ask you to come?" demanded Mrs. Kent, frowning.
"No; but he came to ask my advice as to what he ought to do. I am sorry to hear that you are unfriendly."
"He has treated me with intolerable insolence," said Mrs. Kent, hotly.
"That surprises me. It is wholly contrary to his reputation with those who have known him from his infancy," said Mr. Miller, quietly.
"Then you don't know him as he is."
"He tells me you have accorded your own son superior privileges."
"My son treats me with respect."
"Probably you treat him differently from Jasper."
"I have reasons to."
"You will admit that it is aggravating to see a stranger—an intruder, I may say—preferred to him in his own home?"
"Who calls my son an intruder?" asked Mrs. Kent, hastily.
"Let us call him a stranger, then. Was Mr. Kent aware that you had a son?"
"I decline to answer your question," answered Mrs. Kent, with asperity.
"To pass on, then. Have you refused Jasper permission to return to the school at which his father placed him?"
"I have."
"May I ask why?"
"I don't know that I am responsible to you."
"Mrs. Kent," said Mr. Miller, gravely, "I was the friend of your late husband. I am the friend of his son, Jasper. As the friend of both, I ask you your reason."
"I will answer you, though I do not acknowledge your right to ask. I refuse to let Jasper go back to school, because I wish to punish him for his insolence and disobedience."
"It cannot be any satisfaction to you to have him at home, I should think."
"It is not. I have no reason to like his society."
"Then it appears that you punish yourself in keeping him here."