Tom tried to make his position clearer. "It's a little like this. A
long time ago I was coming along by the Hudson in the train. I was on
my way to New York with the man who had adopted me, after I'd been a
State ward. There was a steamer on the river, and I watched her--coming
_from_ I didn't know where--going _to_ I didn't know where. And it
came to me then that she was something like myself. I didn't know what
port I'd sailed from; nor what port I was making for. But now that I'm
twenty-three--if that's my age--I see this: that once in so often I
touched at some happy isle, where the people took me in and were good
to me. It was what carried me along."
The mother broke in, reproachfully. "Happy isles--full of convicts and
murderers!"
"Yes; but they were happy. The convicts and murderers were kind. A
homeless boy doesn't question the moral righteousness of the people who
give him food and shelter and clothes, and, what's more, all their best
affection. What it comes to is this, that having lived in those happy
isles--awhile in one, awhile in another--I don't want to go ashore at
an unhappy one, even though I was born there."
Springing to his feet, Tad bore down on him. "Do you know what I call
you? I call you an ass."
"Very likely. I'm only trying to explain to you why I can't be your
brother--even if I am--your brother."
"It's because you don't want to be--and you damn well know it."
"That may be another way of putting it; but I'm not putting it that
way."
Lily rose languidly, throwing out her words to nobody in particular. "I
think he's a good sport, if you ask me. I wouldn't come into a family
like us--not the way we are."
"Wait, Lily," Whitelaw cried, as she was sauntering out. He too got
to his feet. "You've all spoken. You've done the best you could. I'm
not blaming anyone. Now I want you all to understand--" He indicated
Tom--"that this is _my son_. I know he's my son. I claim him as my son.
Not even what he says himself can make any difference to me."
Tom strode across the room, grasping the other's hand. "Yes, sir; and
you're my father. I know that too, and I claim you on my side. But
we'll stop right there. It's as far as we can go. I'll be your son in
every sense but that of--" He looked round about on them all--"but
that of being your heir or a member of your family. I can't do that;
but--between you and me--everything is understood."
He got out of the room with dignity. Passing Tad, he nodded, and said,
"Thanks!" To Lily he said, "Thank you too. It was bully, what you
said." Reaching the mother whom he didn't know and who didn't know him,
he bowed low. Sitting again behind the tea-table, she lifted her hand
for him to take it. He took it and kissed it. Her little soblike gasp
followed him as he passed into the big dim hall.
He had taken no leave of Hildred, because he knew she would do what
actually she did; but he didn't know that she would speak the words he
heard spoken.
"I'm going with him, dear Mrs. Whitelaw; but I shan't be long. I just
don't want him to go away alone because--because I mean to marry him."