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Page 14
The distant door of the room swung open, but the man did not hear, and,
his head and face clear cut like a cameo against the dark leather, hands
stretched nervelessly along the arms of the chair, eyes gazing gloomily
into the heart of the flame, he was still. A young man, brilliant with
strength, yet with a worn air about him, and deep circles under his
eyes, stood inside the room and looked at him a long minute--those two
in the silence. The fire crackled cheerfully and the old man sighed.
"Father!" said the young man by the door.
In a second the whole pose changed, and he sat intense, staring, while
the son came toward him and stood across the rug, against the dark wood
of the Florentine fireplace, a picture of young manhood which any father
would he proud to own.
"Of course, I don't know if you want me, father," he said, "but I've
come to tell you that I'll be a good boy, if you do."
The gentle, half-joking manner was very winning, and the play of his
words was trembling with earnest. The older man's face shone as if lamps
were lighted behind his eyes.
"If I want you, Ted!" he said, and held out his hand.
With a quick step forward the lad caught it, and then, with quick
impulsiveness, as if his childhood came back to him on the flood of
feeling unashamed, bent down and kissed him. As he stood erect again he
laughed a little, but the muscles of his face were working, and there
were tears in his eyes. With a swift movement he had drawn a chair, and
the two sat quiet a moment, looking at each other in deep and silent
content to be there so, together.
"Yesterday I thought I'd never see you again this way," said the boy;
and his father only smiled at him, satisfied as yet without words. The
son went on, his eager, stirred feelings crowding to his lips. "There
isn't any question great enough, there isn't any quarrel big enough, to
keep us apart, I think, father. I found that out this afternoon. When a
chap has a father like you, who has given him a childhood and a youth
like mine--" The young voice stopped, trembling. In a moment he had
mastered himself. "I'll probably never be able to talk to you like this
again, so I want to say it all now. I want to say that I know, beyond
doubt, that you would never decide anything, as I would, on impulse, or
prejudice, or from any motives but the highest. I know how well-balanced
you are, and how firmly your reason holds your feelings. So it's a
question between your judgment and mine--and I'm going to trust yours.
You may know me better than I know myself, and anyway you're more to me
than any career, though I did think--but we won't discuss it again. It
would have been a tremendous risk, of course, and it shall be as you
say. I found out this afternoon how much of my life you were," he
repeated.
The older man kept his eyes fixed on the dark, sensitive, glowing young
face, as if they were thirsty for the sight. "What do you mean by
finding it out this afternoon, Ted? Did anything happen to you?"
The young fellow turned his eyes, that were still a bit wet with the
tears, to his father's face, and they shone like brown stars. "It was a
queer thing," he said, earnestly, "It was the sort of thing you read in
stories--almost like," he hesitated, "like Providence, you know. I'll
tell you about it; see if you don't think so. Two days ago, when I--when
I left you, father--I caught a train to the city and went straight to
the club, from habit, I suppose, and because I was too dazed and
wretched to think. Of course, I found a grist of men there, and they
wouldn't let me go. I told them I was ill, but they laughed at me. I
don't remember just what I did, for I was in a bad dream, but I was
about with them, and more men I knew kept turning up--I couldn't seem to
escape my friends. Even if I stayed in my room, they hunted me up. So
this morning I shifted to the Oriental, and shut myself up in my room
there, and tried to think and plan. But I felt pretty rotten, and I
couldn't see daylight, so I went down to lunch, and who should be at the
next table but the Dangerfields, the whole outfit, just back from
England and bursting with cheerfulness! They made me lunch with them,
and it was ghastly to rattle along feeling as I did, but I got away as
soon us I decently could--rather sooner, I think--and went for a walk,
hoping the air would clear my head. I tramped miles--oh, a long time,
but it seemed not to do any good; I felt deadlier and more hopeless than
ever--I haven't been very comfortable fighting you," he stopped a
minute, and his tired face turned to his father's with a smile of very
winning gentleness.
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