Part 45 (1/2)

You're doing a good woman an injustice, and you won't, for some reason, be fair.”

”Fair! Fair!” interrupted Archibald. ”Talk about being fair. Is it fair to me, to your family, to your dead mother to take a woman of the streets and live with her? Is it--”

”Stop now, father,” exclaimed Lester, putting up his hand. ”I warn you. I won't listen to talk like that. You're talking about the woman that I'm living with--that I may marry. I love you, but I won't have you saying things that aren't so. She isn't a woman of the streets. You know, as well as you know anything, that I wouldn't take up with a woman of that kind. We'll have to discuss this in a calmer mood, or I won't stay here. I'm sorry. I'm awfully sorry. But I won't listen to any such language as that.”

Old Archibald quieted himself. In spite of his opposition, he respected his son's point of view. He sat back in his chair and stared at the floor. ”How was he to handle this thing?” he asked himself.

”Are you living in the same place?” he finally inquired.

”No, we've moved out to Hyde Park. I've taken a house out there.”

”I hear there's a child. Is that yours?”

”No.”

”Have you any children of your own?”

”No.”

”Well, that's a G.o.d's blessing.”

Lester merely scratched his chin.

”And you insist you will marry her?” Archibald went on.

”I didn't say that,” replied his son. ”I said I might.”

”Might! Might!” exclaimed his father, his anger bubbling again.

”What a tragedy! You with your prospects! Your outlook! How do you suppose I can seriously contemplate entrusting any share of my fortune to a man who has so little regard for what the world considers as right and proper? Why, Lester, this carriage business, your family, your personal reputation appear to be as nothing at all to you. I can't understand what has happened to your pride. It seems like some wild, impossible fancy.”

”It's pretty hard to explain, father, and I can't do it very well.

I simply know that I'm in this affair, and that I'm bound to see it through. It may come out all right. I may not marry her--I may.

I'm not prepared now to say what I'll do. You'll have to wait. I'll do the best I can.”

Old Archibald merely shook his head disapprovingly.

”You've made a bad mess of this, Lester,” he said finally. ”Surely you have. But I suppose you are determined to go your way. Nothing that I have said appears to move you.”

”Not now, father. I'm sorry.”

”Well, I warn you, then, that, unless you show some consideration for the dignity of your family and the honor of your position it will make a difference in my will. I can't go on countenancing this thing, and not be a party to it morally and every other way. I won't do it.

You can leave her, or you can marry her. You certainly ought to do one or the other. If you leave her, everything will be all right. You can make any provision for her you like. I have no objection to that. I'll gladly pay whatever you agree to. You will share with the rest of the children, just as I had planned. If you marry her it will make a difference. Now do as you please. But don't blame me. I love you. I'm your father. I'm doing what I think is my bounden duty. Now you think that over and let me know.”

Lester sighed. He saw how hopeless this argument was. He felt that his father probably meant what he said, but how could he leave Jennie, and justify himself to himself? Would his father really cut him off?

Surely not. The old gentleman loved him even now--he could see it. Lester felt troubled and distressed; this attempt at coercion irritated him. The idea--he, Lester Kane, being made to do such a thing to throw Jennie down. He stared at the floor.

Old Archibald saw that he had let fly a telling bullet.