_Will._ I--I didn't know, Dad. _(A pause)._

_Dad (in a breaking voice)._ Well, now you've forced me to humble
myself, what have you got to say to me?

_Will (starting)._ Oh, Dad! Forgive me!

_(Seizes his hands)._ Dad, I'm ashamed of myself! I was coming to
you to-day. Honestly I was!

_Dad (returning to his gruff manner)._ Well, young fellow, I'm glad
to hear you've learned a little sense, at least! How've you been
making out? Not very well, I judge.

_Will._ Not at all well, Dad.

_Dad._ Humph! Too proud to tell me, hey? The woman looks pale; and
the child too. _(To Bill.)_ Come here, youngster. So this is my
grandson! _(To Will.)_ It's all very well for you to make war on
your old father and break his pride; but you'd no right to use your
child like this. _(Looks at Mss. on table.)_ What's this!

_Peggy._ It's Will's manuscript. A play.

_Dad._ So that's what he is doing, instead of taking care of his
wife and child? _(Punches Mss. with his cane and scatters it in
every direction over the floor)._

_Will._ Oh!