"You can have nothing to say to me, Mr. Ravenor, which it would not be better for him to hear, especially as you say that it concerns him." He shrugged his high, square shoulders, as though indifferent; but I fancied, nevertheless, that a shade of annoyance lingered in his face for a moment. "Very good!" he said shortly. "Rumour may have told you, Mrs. Morton, if you ever listen to such things, that I am a very wicked man. Possibly! I don't deny it! At any rate, I am, by disposition and custom, profoundly selfish. I owe to your son a luxury--that of having found my thoughts withdrawn from myself for a few minutes--with me a most rare event. "I met him last evening and talked with him. He talked like a fool, it is true, but that has nothing to do with it. Afterwards I thought of him again; wondered what you were going to do with him; remembered--pardon me!--that you must be poor; and remembered, also, that you have suffered through a servant of mine." He paused. For nearly half a minute they looked one another in the face--my mother and this man. There was something in her rapt, fascinated gaze, and in the keen, brilliant light which flashed from his dark eyes as he returned it, which seemed strange to me. It was like a challenge offered and accepted--a duel in which neither was vanquished, for neither flinched. "It occurred to me then," he continued calmly, "to call and ask you what you intended doing with him, and to plead, as excuses for the suggestion which I am about to make, the reasons which I have just stated. I am a rich man, as you know, and the money would be nothing to me. I wish to be allowed to defray the expenses of finishing your son's education." It seemed to me a magnificently generous offer, but a very simple one. I could not understand the agitation and apparent indecision which it caused my mother. Her prompt refusal I could have understood, although it would have been a blow to me. But this mixture of horror and consternation, of emotion and dismay, I could make nothing of. The feeling which I had imagined would surely be manifested--gratitude--was conspicuous by its absence. What did it all mean? My mother sat down and Mr. Ravenor leaned back in his armchair, apparently content to wait for her decision. I moved across the room to her side and took her cold fingers into mine. "Mother," I cried, with glowing cheeks and voice trembling with eagerness, "what is the matter? Why do you not say 'yes'? You know how I have wanted to go to college! There is no reason why you should not consent, is there?" Mr. Ravenor smiled--a very slight movement of the lips. "If your mother considers your interests at all," he said calmly, "she will certainly consent." I was about to speak, but my mother looked up and I checked the words on my lips. "Mr. Ravenor," she said quietly, "I accept your offer and I thank you for it. That is all I can say." "Quite enough," he remarked nonchalantly.