oing to let Floyd rule
everything----"

"Well, what can I help? I had no money to bolster up affairs! Wilmarth
was awfully blue. I didn't suppose anything could be made of the
business, it was in such a muddle. And it couldn't now, mother, if
Floyd had not sunk thousands; I don't see how he expects to get it back
if _we_ have anything."

"You threw away your chance!" She must say this, much as she loves him.

"But how could I know that she was pretty and lady-like, and would not
mortify a man with her blunders? You do not suppose Floyd is really in
love with her?"

"He had the wisdom to marry her," she responds, tartly, loath even now
to hear her praised. "It gives him as much interest in the business
as--well, more than _you_ take."

"I should like to take his money and let him manage it all, since he
has turned into such a splendid hand."

"And what would you do?"

"Why, live on my money." And the young man laughs lightly.

His mother feels at that instant as if her whole life was wasted, her
affection despoiled. Eugene is careless, heartless, and yet she cannot
in a moment change the habit of her motherhood and unlove him. She
feels that he cares very little for their welfare, that for everything
she must depend upon her eldest son, and the dependence is bitter. It
should not be so, and yet she has been curiously jealous of Floyd since
the day Aunt Marcia took him under her wing. He has so much, the rest
will have such a trifle in comparison! Yet she feels sure it would slip
through Eugene's fingers in no time and leave him a poor man again. But
our inclination does not always follow our judgment.

CHAPTER XIII.

For two enemies the world is too small, for two friends a needle's eye
is large enough.--BULWER.

The brothers spend nearly all of the next morning in the factory. Floyd
has left his substitute with the professor, and sent Cecil to ride, so
that she shall not distract Violet's attention. He tries to explain to
Eugene all that he has done, the money he has advanced, and the future
that seems possible. "It will be a long pull," he says, "but when you
get through, the result will be a handsome business. Three years ought
to do it."

"Three years," Eugene repeats, with a sigh.

For a moment Floyd is provoked. Does Eugene never expect to put his
shoulder to the wheel, to take any real care? Must he fight the matter
through for them all? But then, there is Violet.

"I shall expect you to