After Mildred’s departure from the country he carried out his plans in a characteristic way.  He wrote frankly and decidedly to his uncle that he was coming to the city, and would struggle on alone if he received no aid.  At the same time he suggested that he had a large acquaintance in his vicinity, and therefore by judicious canvassing among the farmers he believed he could bring much patronage with him.  This looked not unreasonable to the shrewd commission merchant, and, since his nephew was determined to make an excursion into the world, he concluded it had better be done under the safest and most business-like circumstances.  At the same time recalling the character and habits of the country boy, as he remembered him, he surmised that Roger would soon become homesick and glad to go back to his old life.  If retained under his eye, the youth could be kept out of harm’s way and returned untainted and content to be a farmer.  He therefore wrote to Roger that, if his parents were willing, he might secure what trade he could in farm produce and make the trial.

At first Mr. and Mrs. Atwood would not hear of the plan, and the father openly declared that it was “those Jocelyn girls that had unsettled the boy.”

“Father,” said Roger, a little defiantly and sarcastically, doesn’t it strike you that I’m rather tall for a boy?  Did you never hear of a small child, almost of age, choosing his own course in life?”

“That is not the way to talk,” said his mother reprovingly.  “We both very naturally feel that it’s hard, and hardly right, too, for you to leave us just as we are getting old and need some one to lean on.”

“Do not believe, mother, that I have not thought of that,” was the eager reply; “and if I have my way you and father, and Susan too, shall be well provided for.”

“Thank you,” Mr. Atwood snarled contemptuously.  “I’ll get what I can out of the old farm, and I don’t expect any provision from an overgrown boy whose head is so turned by two city girls that he must go dangling after them.”

Roger flushed hotly, and angry words rose to his lips, but he restrained them by a visible effort.  After a moment he said quietly, “You are my father, and may say what you please.  There is but one way of convincing you whether I am a boy or a man, and I’ll take it.  You can keep me here till I’m twenty-one if you will, but you’ll be sorry.  It will be so much loss to me and no gain to you.  I’ve often heard you say the Atwoods never ‘drove well,’ and you found out years ago that a good word went further with me than what you used to call a ‘good thrashing.’  If you let me have my way, now that I’m old enough to choose for myself, I’ll make your old age cozy and comfortable.  If you thwart me, as I said before, you’ll be sorry,” and he turned on his heel and left them.

Politic Mrs. Atwood had watched her son closely for weeks and knew that something was coming, but with woman’s patience she waited and was kind.  No one would miss him so much as she, and yet, mother-like, she now took sides against her own heart.  But she saw that her husband was in no mood to listen to her at present, and nothing more was said that day.