Mallet alone!" said Roderick. "I have squeezed him dry;
it 's not my fault, at least, if I have n't!"

"Roderick, what have you done with all your money?" his mother demanded.

"Thrown it away! It was no such great amount. I have done nothing this
winter."

"You have done nothing?"

"I have done no work! Why in the world did n't you guess it and spare me
all this? Could n't you see I was idle, distracted, dissipated?"

"Dissipated, my dear son?" Mrs. Hudson repeated.

"That 's over for the present! But could n't you see--could n't Mary
see--that I was in a damnably bad way?"

"I have no doubt Miss Garland saw," said Rowland.

"Mary has said nothing!" cried Mrs. Hudson.

"Oh, she 's a fine girl!" Rowland said.

"Have you done anything that will hurt poor Mary?" Mrs. Hudson asked.

"I have only been thinking night and day of another woman!"

Mrs. Hudson dropped helplessly into her seat again. "Oh dear, dear, had
n't we better go home?"

"Not to get out of her way!" Roderick said. "She has started on a career
of her own, and she does n't care a straw for me. My head was filled
with her; I could think of nothing else; I would have sacrificed
everything to her--you, Mary, Mallet, my work, my fortune, my future, my
honor! I was in a fine state, eh? I don't pretend to be giving you good
news; but I 'm telling the simple, literal truth, so that you may know
why I have gone to the dogs. She pretended to care greatly for all this,
and to be willing to make any sacrifice in return; she had a magnificent
chance, for she was being forced into a mercenary marriage with a man
she detested. She led me to believe that she would give this up, and
break short off, and keep herself free and sacred and pure for me. This
was a great honor, and you may believe that I valued it. It turned
my head, and I lived only to see my happiness come to pass. She did
everything to encourage me to hope it would; everything that her
infernal coquetry and falsity could suggest."

"Oh, I say, this is too much!" Rowland broke out.

"Do you defend her?" Roderick cried, with a renewal of his passion. "Do
you pretend to say that she gave me no hopes?" He had been speaking
with growing bitterness, quite losing sight of his mother's pain and
bewilderment in the passionate joy of publishing his wrongs. Since he
was hurt, he must cry out; since he was in pain, he must scatter his
pain abroad. Of his never thinking of others, save as they spoke and
m