Part 1 (2/2)
” Does your mother know of this ” ” he asked mournfully.
”Yes,” replied the girl. ”She knows. She has been trying to make me give up Rufus.”
”Rufus,” cried the professor rejuvenated by anger.
”Well, his name is Rufus,” said the girl.
”But please don't call him so before me,” said the father with icy dignity. ” I do not recognise him as being named Rufus.
That is a contention of yours which does not arouse my interest. I know him very well as a gambler and a drunkard, and if incidentally, he is named Rufus, I fail to see any importance to it.”
” He is not a gambler and he is not a drunkard,” she said.
” Um. He drinks heavily-that is well known. He gambles.
He plays cards for money--more than he possesses-at least he did when he was in college.”
” You said you liked him when he was in college.”
” So I did. So I did,” answered the professor sharply. ” I often find myself liking that kind of a boy in college. Don't I know them-those lads with their beer and their poker games in the dead of the night with a towel hung over the keyhole. Their habits are often vicious enough, but something remains in them through it all and they may go away and do great things. This happens. We know it. It happens with confusing insistence. It destroys theo- ries. There-there isn't much to say about it. And sometimes we like this kind of a boy better than we do the-the others. For my part I know of many a pure, pious and fine- minded student that I have positively loathed from a personal point-of-view. But,” he added, ” this Rufus Coleman, his life in college and his life since, go to prove how often we get off the track. There is no gauge of collegiate conduct whatever, until we can get evidence of the man's work in the world. Your precious scoundrel's evidence is now all in and he is a failure, or worse.”
” You are not habitually so fierce in judging people,” said the girl.
”I would be if they all wanted to marry my daughter,”
rejoined the professor. ” Rather than let that man make love to you-or even be within a short railway journey of you, I'll cart you off to Europe this winter and keep you there until you forget. If you persist in this silly fancy, I shall at once become medieval.”
Marjory had evidently recovered much of her composure.
”Yes, father, new climates are alway's supposed to cure one,”
she remarked with a kind of lightness.
” It isn't so much the old expedient,” said the professor musingly, ”as it is that I would be afraid to leave you herewith no protection against that drinking gambler and gambling drunkard.”
” Father, I have to ask you not to use such terms in speaking of the man that I shall marry.”
There was a silence. To all intents, the professor remained unmoved. He smote the tips of his fingers thoughtfully together. ” Ye-es,” he observed. ”That sounds reasonable from your standpoint.” His eyes studied her face in a long and steady glance. He arose and went into the hall. When he returned he wore his hat and great coat. He took a book and some papers from the table and went away.
Marjory walked slowly through the halls and up to her room.
From a window she could see her father making his way across the campus labouriously against the wind and whirling snow.
She watched it, this little black figure, bent forward, patient, steadfast. It was an inferior fact that her father was one of the famous scholars of the generation. To her, he was now a little old man facing the wintry winds. Recollect. ing herself and Rufus Coleman she began to weep again, wailing amid the ruins of her tumbled hopes. Her skies had turned to paper and her trees were mere bits of green sponge. But amid all this woe appeared the little black image of her father making its way against the storm.
CHAPTER II.
IN a high-walled corrider of one of the college buildings, a crowd of students waited amid jostlings and a loud buzz of talk.
Suddenly a huge pair of doors flew open and a wedge of young men inserted itself boisterously and deeply into the throng.
There was a great scuffle attended by a general banging of books upon heads. The two lower cla.s.ses engaged in herculean play while members of the two higher cla.s.ses, standing aloof, devoted themselves strictly to the encouragement of whichever party for a moment lost ground or heart. This was in order to prolong the conflict.
The combat, waged in the desperation of proudest youth, waxed hot and hotter. The wedge had been instantly smitten into a kind of block of men. It had crumpled into an irregular square and on three sides it was now a.s.sailed with remarkable ferocity.
<script>