Mary Roberts Rinehart

“ Jim's a man, mother. He's not a little boy. He'll go through his shady period, like the rest.”
That night it was Mrs. Wheeler's turn to lie awake. Again and again she went over Nina's words, and her troubled mind found a basis in fact for them. Jim had been getting money from her, to supplement his small salary; he had been going out a great deal at night, and returning very late; once or twice, in the morning, he had looked ill and his eyes had been bloodshot, as though he had been drinking.
Anxiety gripped her. There were so many temptations for young men, so many who waited to waylay them. ”

“ She was hurt and a trifle offended, and she cried a little about it. Yet, as Dick explained to her later that day, it was simple enough. Her father needed a rest, and besides, it was right that he should know all about Dick's life before he came to Haverly. ”

“ You'd better come along, Nina.”
“What is it? Is somebody sick?” Elizabeth gasped.
“Jim's been in an automobile accident. Steady now, Elizabeth! He's hurt, but he's going to be all right.”
The Wheeler house, when they got there, was brightly lighted. Annie was crying in the hall, and in the living-room Mrs. Sayre stood alone, a strange figure in a gaudy dress, but with her face strong and calm.
“They've gone to the hospital in my car,” she said. “They'll be there now any minute, and Mr. Oglethorpe will telephone at once. You are to wait before starting in.” ”