uietly and stealthily cut his studies, slipped out of the house, and
reappeared about dinner-time, excited, inclined to be boisterously
defiant, admitting that he had borrowed enough money from a friend to go
to a matinee with some other boys, and that he would do it again if he
chose.

Also, to Kathleen's horror, he swore deliberately at table when Mr.
Tappan's name was mentioned; and Geraldine looked up with startled brown
eyes, divining in her brother something new--something that
unconsciously they both had long, long waited for--the revolt of youth
ere youth had been crushed for ever from the body which encased it.

"Damn him," repeated Scott, a little frightened at his own words and
attitude; "I've had enough of this baby business; I'm eighteen and I
want two things: some friends to go about with freely, and some money to
do what other boys do. And you can tell Mr. Tappan, for all I care."

"What would you buy with money that is not already provided for, Scott?"
asked Kathleen, gently ignoring his excited profanity.

"I don't know; there is no pleasure in using things which that fool of
a Trust Company votes to let you have. Anyway, what I want is liberty
and money."

"What would you do with what you call liberty, dear?"

"Do? I'd--I'd--well, I'd go shooting if I wanted to. I'd buy a gun and
go off somewhere after ducks."

"But your father's old club on the Chesapeake is open to you. Shall I
ask Mr. Tappan?"

"Oh, yes: I know," he sneered, "and Mr. Tappan would send some chump of
a tutor there to teach me. I don't want to be taught how to hit ducks. I
want to find out for myself. I don't care for that sort of thing," he
repeated savagely; "I just ache to go off somewhere with a boy of my own
age where there's no club and no preserve and no tutor; and where I can
knock about and get whatever there is to get without anybody's help."

Geraldine said: "You have more liberty now than I have, Scott. What are
you howling for?"

"The only real liberty I have I take! Anyway, you have enough for a girl
of your age. And you'd better shut up."

"I won't shut up," she retorted irritably. "I want liberty as much as
you do. If I had any, I'd go to every play and opera in New York. And
I'd go about with my friends and I'd have gowns fitted, and I'd have tea
at Sherry's, and I'd shop and go to matinees and to the Exchange, and
I'd be elected a member of the Commonwealth Club and play basket-ball
there, and swim, and l