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But now he shook his head,
as an intimation that nothing could move him.
"You have taken your own course, sir," continued the son, through his
closed teeth. "I shall take mine. Don't forget my last words. As for
you, sir," turning to Marcus Wilkeson, "we shall probably meet again."
Marcus urbanely responded that nothing could give him greater pleasure.
The son, darting a last malignant look at his father, whose face was
happily averted, strode out of the room, slamming the door, and
afterward the street door, with increased emphasis.
When he had gone, the father said to his visitor, feebly:
"Have I done right?"
"Precisely. Your conduct was firm, prudent, and will have a good
effect."
"I hope so--I hope so. But don't you think, now, I was a little too
severe--to begin with, I mean? I fear that my son will be driven to
crime; and that would kill me."
"I regard his threats as only empty words," replied Marcus. He has found
them useful heretofore, and he tries them now. Having learned that they
do not longer frighten you, he will never employ them again.


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