When he reached the highest crest, Vega still hung over the sullen glow of a furnace throat; but the smudge had grown darker.
The next morning his father, who seemed gifted with the ability to pierce unerringly to whatever weighed on the son's desires, went into the subject with him. "This isn't criticism, Pelham; it's an attempt to help you steer clear of any mess. Particularly with a married woman. It sounds--nasty."
The son was indignant. "There's been nothing improper. I've taken a few Sunday suppers there----"
"Of course, of course." Pelham knew these dry tones. "It doesn't pay. I ought to have talked with you before. It's easy for a young man, particularly with good financial prospects, to get roped in by some woman, married or unmarried.... Sometimes he has to pay well to get out."
"It doesn't pay, visiting one woman," Paul continued, in matter-of-fact tones. "Young Little almost had to marry one of the telephone operators at the Stevens Hotel. His father loosened up five thousand to get rid of her. I haven't any money to waste on your foolishness."
"If you must have a woman--I passed through the stage myself, like all young men--don't you fool with the half-decent kind. You'd better go right down to Butler's Avenue, and pay your money down for what you get. There's less chance of diseases--they have medical inspection. And it avoids a serious mix-up."
Pelham's face went white. "I don't need that kind of advice. I've kept straight so far; I intend to keep so, until I'm married. Money couldn't pay me to go there."
The older man exhaled noisily. "Remember what I said."
A swelling white rage choked the boy's voice. "Does--does mother know that you went to--such places?"
Paul turned sharply. "Of course not. There are some things women are supposed to know nothing about."
Pelham gradually decreased the frequency of his visits; but he still managed precious afternoons with her in his car, and occasional evenings, which left him irritatingly disturbed. He wanted to see more of her, and knew that he should see less; he was eager even to hear her name mentioned at home, but embarrassed if it was.
"Listen, Nell," he interposed to his sister, when he was helping to draw up the list of guests for a summer fête the girls planned. "You used to be pretty fond of Mrs. Meade."