“There is no reason why you shouldn't, Thomas,” said Mr. Leigh. Then after a pause, “Particularly if you must return at once.” “Yes, I must,” said Tommy. By rights he ought to stay in New York and live with his father, whose only son he was, the father with whom he had lived so little since his school days. Then he assured himself that Marion had nothing to do with his sense of filial duty. For a moment Mr. Leigh looked as if he were about to speak, but he merely shook his head and resumed his newspaper. Tommy went to his room to pack his suit-case. They had very little to say at dinner. When the time came for parting, Mr. Leigh's face took on the same look of grim determination that Tommy remembered so distressingly. “My son,” said Mr. Leigh, in the dispirited monotone that also recalled to Tommy the first time he had heard it, “I do not think you--you are called upon to suffer unnecessary discomforts. Your--your weekly remittances to me are doubtless depriving you of--” “They are my chief pleasure, dad,” Tommy interrupted, very kindly. “I send only what I can afford. I am very comfortable. I never felt more fit. And I--Well, father, you might as well understand that I've simply got to pay back the money you--you spent for my education.” “There is no call upon you to do that. It was my duty. Your education was to me the most important--” “Yes, yes, I understand, dad. But don't you understand how I feel about it?” Tommy spoke feverishly. He hated to talk about it, for it sharpened the secret's prod unbearably. And he hated himself for his cowardice in not talking about it in plain words. “I have credited you with what you've sent,” said Mr. Leigh, so eagerly, so apologetically, and withal so proudly, that Tommy's heart was softened. “See?” And the old man took from the table drawer the little book bound in black morocco and showed Tommy the items on the credit side. “Not as much as I'd like,” said Tommy, bravely trying to speak pleasantly. “But I don't want you to stint yourself. It isn't necessary.” Seeing Tommy's look of protest, he went on, hurriedly: “I can bear my burden alone. You are in no way to blame.” “Father, all I want to do is to pay back what I owe--” “You owe nothing!” “I think I do. It has made me work--” “I don't want that. You must find pleasure in the work itself, not in paying my--er--debts, Thomas.” “Your debts are my debts,” said Tommy, firmly. “And I do love the work. I want to do it. If I--even if I didn't feel I owed a penny, I'd still want to work in Dayton under Thompson, who will surely make me into a man.” “I think you are that already, Thomas.” Mr. Leigh's voice quavered so that Tommy took a step toward him. “If you continue as you have begun”--Mr. Leigh's voice was now steady, almost cold--“I shall be quite satisfied, Thomas.”