four of them were all young
together, and the one as good as the other. Young they were, and the
hearts of them young--wild, doubtful hearts. Many's the time Lil would
come to me then, here in this same kitchen, and go down on her knees,
her that was tall and a fine figure of a girl, and cling onto me, crying
her heart out; crying she was for all the world like--like----"

Mrs. Donovan checked herself abruptly with shrewd eyes upon her son.

"Like young things do cry, and tell you their troubles in tears, not
words." She ended somewhat vaguely, and came quickly back to her main
subject again.

"You that can walk into the big rally next week and sit with the men
that count, and whisper and talk to them, and hold your head high, with
nothing against you, and will be sitting up on the platform soon, with
the best of them, and be mayor yet, like Everard's going to be, or
governor, maybe--you to compare yourself with Charlie, if he is my
half-sister's own son. He's a drunken good-for-nothing. He's got no
spirit in him if he'll stay here at all, where he's ashamed himself and
make a show of himself. How is it he's able to stay? Where does he get
the money he spends? This town don't pay it to him. Who does?"

"What put that into your head?" her son asked sharply.

"There's talk enough of it, and there'll be more. The whole town will be
asking soon."

"The town asks a lot of questions it don't dare hear the answers to,"
said Neil softly, unregarded. His mother returned to her grievance:

"You to be likening yourself to Charlie."

"When Charlie was twenty-five," Neil began slowly, "he was where I will
be then, or better. The Judge was a friend to him, too, and the Judge
was a better friend then to have. Charlie was setting up for himself,
well thought of. My own father trusted him. When I was a boy and not
grown, Charlie was a son to him, and more. He was a better spoken lawyer
than I'll ever make, quick and smooth with his tongue, and he was fine
appearing, and put up a better front than I do. I've gone part of the
road that Charlie went. What will stop me from going the whole road?
What's beat Charlie is strong enough to beat me.... Don't look so
scared, mother. I don't want to scare you. I only want you to be fair to
Charlie."

"His heart's broke," she conceded, melting. "He's nothing with Maggie
gone."

"His heart's broke, but that's not what beat him," her son stated with
authority. "He was beat before."

"Wh