"Then, dear," interrupted Kathleen, her voice thrilling with the sympathy she felt, "try this one thing more. If the expense doesn't appall you--"
Mr. Fabian shook his head impatiently. "That would be nothing--as yet."
"Edgar can't study through the summer. His teacher is going to Italy. He would like to go with him--" the girl paused doubtfully.
Her father laughed. "I dare say. Edgar's European travel, however, is over until he is engaged to sing before the crowned heads."
"Yes, I supposed so," agreed the girl; "but he means to work faithfully all summer."
"Work faithfully! Edgar!" repeated Mr. Fabian.
"Supposing he should, father. Supposing he has found his niche in life and will do something worth while."
"Wonderful if true," remarked Mr. Fabian.
"But it won't help to disbelieve in him. I know he began all wrong forcing you to pay this money--"
Kathleen arose suddenly, and, moving across the room, opened the heavy door of the den. "Come in, Edgar," she called. The invitation was unnecessary; for the youth, in his eagerness to hear what fate was being meted out to him within the closed apartment, had been leaning so hard against the door that when all at once it fell away from him, he staggered into the room with the most undignified celerity.
Stirred as Kathleen was, she had to bite her lip before she could speak; but when her brother had gained his perpendicular and faced them with a somewhat frightened and very crimson countenance, she broke the silence.
"Tell father," she said, "that you know you began this new venture wrong: that it was shameful to force him to pay this big bill for your lessons."
Edgar choked and swallowed, meeting the eyes that were lifting to him from the depths of the leathern armchair. Convicted of eavesdropping and reading the cold appraisement in his father's gaze, he had not gathered himself to utter a word when Mr. Fabian spoke.
"You have not forced me," he said slowly. "I can refuse. You are of age. You can be sued and imprisoned quite independently of me."
Edgar's heart beat fast and he set the even teeth.
"You have counted once more on my unwillingness to have this occur; but that unwillingness has been weakening for years."
Still Edgar did not speak. Kathleen, standing by her father's chair, her hands clasped tightly, dared not. She noted that Edgar's gaze did not fall. He met his father's eyes in crimson silence.