Hugh noticed it particularly, for he chanced to be over at that side of the extensive field.
There was a chauffeur at the wheel, and in the tonneau a lady and a boy sat, in whom Hugh quickly recognized Claude Jardine and his mother.

She held her face deliberately away from the bright scene, as though appalled to know that so many parents in Scranton were so unwise, almost foolish, as to allow their sons to participate in such antics; and their daughters to attend the same.
But Hugh chuckled when he saw Claude give a quick look up at his mother, as if to make certain she was not looking; after which he leaned forward and stared hard and eagerly at the wonderful picture that athletic field presented.

Hugh had good eyesight, and he could detect the longing expression in the effeminate features of the boy whose mother seemed bent on making him a weakling and a "sissy." "Poor Claude, I certainly do pity you," Hugh was telling himself as the big car rolled on amidst a cloud of dust.

"Deep down in your heart you are yearning to be as other natural boys are, who have red blood in their veins.

If your dad had lived I warrant there'd be a different story to tell, because they say he liked all kinds of healthy sport; but, somehow, Mrs.Jardine has taken a dislike to such things that seems to keep growing stronger all the time, until it's become a regular mania with her.