Part 4 (1/2)

There had been for him but little of that spiritual exaltation which made that night the one supreme one in Rachel's existence; when the rapture of gratified pride and love blended with the radiant moonlight and the subtle fragrance of the flowers into a sweet symphony that would well chord with the song the stars sang together in the morning.

He was denied the pleasure that comes from success, after harrowing doubts and fears. His unfailing consciousness of his own worth had left him little doubt that a favorable answer would promptly follow when he chose to propose to Rachel Bond, or to any other girl, and when this came with the antic.i.p.ated readiness, he could not help in the midst of his gratification at her a.s.sent the intrusion of the disagreeable suspicion that, peradventure, he had not done the best with his personal wares that he might. Possibly there would appear in time some other girl, whom he might prefer to Rachel, and at all events there was no necessity for his committing himself when he did, for Rachel ”would have kept,” as Ned Burnleigh coa.r.s.ely put it, when made the recipient of Harry's confidence.

Three months of companions.h.i.+p with Ned Burnleigh, and daily imbibation of that young man's stories of his wonderful conquests among young women of peerless beauty and exalted social station confirmed this feeling, and led him to wish for at least such slackening of the betrothal tether as would permit excursions into a charmed realm like that where Ned reigned supreme.

For the thousandth time--and in each recurrence becoming a little clearer defined and more urgent--came the question:

”Shall I break with Rachel? How can I? And what possible excuse can I a.s.sign for it?”

There came no answer to this save the spurs with which base self-love was p.r.i.c.king the sides of his intent, and he recoiled from it--ashamed of himself, it is true, but less ashamed at each renewed consideration of the query.

He hastened home that he might receive a greeting that would efface the memory of the reception he had met with in the street. There, at least, he would be regarded as a hero, returning laurel-crowned from the conflict.

As he entered the door his father, tall, spare and iron-gray, laid down the paper he was reading, and with a noticeable lowering of the temperature of his wonted calm but earnest cordiality, said simply:

”How do you do? When did you get in?”

”Very well, and on the 10:30 train.”

”Did all your company come?”

Harry winced, for there was something in his father's manner, more than his words, expressive of strong disapproval. He answered:

”No; I was unwell. The water and the exposure disagreed with me, and I was allowed to come on in advance.”

Mr. Glen, the elder, carefully folded the paper he was reading and laid it on the stand, as if its presence would embarra.s.s him in what he was about to say. He took off his eye-gla.s.ses, wiped them deliberately, closed them up and hesitated for a moment, holding them between the thumb and fore finger of one hand, before placing them in their case, which he had taken from his pocket with the other.

These were all gestures with which experience had made Harry painfully familiar. He used to describe them to his boy intimates as ”the Governor clearing for action.” There was something very disagreeable coming, and he awaited it apprehensively.

”Were you”--the father's cold, searching eyes rested for an instant on the gla.s.ses in his hand, and then were fixed on his son's face--”were you too ill the day of the fight to accompany your command?”

Harry's glance quailed under the penetrating scrutiny, as was his custom when his father subjected him to a relentless catechism; then he summoned a.s.surance and a.s.sumed anger.

”Father,” he said, ”I certainly did not expect that you would join these mean-spirited curs in their abuse of me, but now I see that---”

”Henry, you evade the question.” The calm eyes took on a steely hardness. ”You certainly know by this time that I always require direct answers to my questions. Now the point is this: You entered this company to be its leader, and to share all its duties with it. It went into a fight while you remained back in camp. Why was this so? Were you too sick to accompany it?”

”I certainly was not feeling well.”

”Were you too ill to go along with your company?”

”--and--there--was--some--work--in--camp that--needed--to--be--done--and there was enough without me, and--I--I--”

”That is sufficient,” said the elder man with a look of scorn that presently changed into one of deeply wounded pride. ”Henry, I know too well your disposition to s.h.i.+rk the unpleasant duties of life, to be much surprised that, when tried by this test, you were found wanting. But this wounds me deeply. People in Sardis think my disposition hard and exacting; they think I care for little except to get all that is due me.

But no man here can say that in all his long life Robert Glen s.h.i.+rked or evaded a single duty that he owed to the community or his fellow-men, no matter how dangerous or disagreeable that duty might be. To have you fail in this respect and to take and maintain your place in the front rank with other men is a terrible blow to my pride.”

”O, Harry, is that you?” said his mother, coming into the room at that moment and throwing herself into her son's arms. ”I was lying down when I heard your voice, and I dressed and hurried down as quickly as possible. I am so glad that you have come home all safe and well. I know that you'll contradict, for your poor mother's sake, all these horrible stories that are worrying her almost to death.”

”Unfortunately he has just admitted that those stories are substantially true,” said the father curtly.

”I won't believe it,” sobbed his mother, ”until he tells me so himself.