And now here was Edward speaking in a sullen, savage kind
of way, instead of showing any gratitude. The idea of Mr. Henry's stern
displeasure loomed in the background.
"Yes!" said he, "I'm glad to find you come into the idea of going to
America. It's the only place for you. The sooner you can go, and the
better."
"I can't go without money," said Edward, doggedly. "If I had had money, I
need not have come here."
"Oh, Ned! would you have gone without seeing me?" said Mrs. Browne,
bursting into tears. "Mr. Buxton, I cannot let him go to America. Look how
ill he is. He'll die if you send him there."
"Mother, don't give way so," said Edward, kindly, taking her hand. "I'm
not ill, at least not to signify. Mr. Buxton is right: America is the only
place for me. To tell the truth, even if Mr. Buxton is good enough" (he
said this as if unwilling to express any word of thankfulness) "not to
prosecute me, there are others who may--and will. I'm safer out of the
country. Give me money enough to get to Liverpool and pay my passage, and
I'll be off this minute."
"You shall not," said Mrs. Browne, holding him tightly. "You told me this
morning you were led into temptation, and went wrong because you had no
comfortable home, nor any one to care for you, and make you happy. It will
be worse in America. You'll get wrong again, and be away from all who can
help you. Or you'll die all by yourself, in some backwood or other.
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