addy,--that man's coming.
Everybody tried to forget it. And some of the young people didn't know
him at all."
"No; it didn't matter, Phil. Your Uncle Amzi is a fine gentleman: I
never fully appreciated his goodness and generosity as much as I did
last night."
Phil did not know that Amzi had sought Kirkwood in the den where the
lawyer had gone to take counsel with himself, and had blown himself
purple in the face in his kind efforts to make light of the incident.
The two men had never been drawn closer together in their lives than in
that meeting.
"It wasn't Uncle Amy's fault that the William Holtons were asked to the
party; I think it was Aunt Kate who started that. And when I heard of
it, it was all over and the invitations had been sent," Phil said.
Kirkwood repeated his assurance that it made no difference in any way.
And Phil remembered for a long time a certain light in his gentle,
candid eyes as he said:--
"We get over most of our troubles in this world, Phil; and I want you to
know that that particular thing doesn't hurt me any more. Only it was a
shock; the man had aged so and his condition and the suddenness of
it--But it's all over and it didn't spoil the party; that's the main
thing."
Phil was immensely relieved, for she knew that her father told the
truth.
Jack Holton greeted a number of old friends on his way to the bank, but
the president emeritus of the college cut him. The cold stare he
received from this old man, who had been president of Madison College
for forty years, expressed a contempt that hurt. Mrs. King, in whose
yard he had played as a boy, looked over his head, though he was
confident she knew him. His nostrils caught no scent of roast veal in
the familiar streets. At his brother's house his sister-in-law, whom he
had never seen, had not appeared when he went down for his breakfast.
He followed his brother into the directors' room in a defiant humor.
They took account of each other with a frank curiosity begotten of their
long separation.
"You haven't changed much, Will. You've grown a little stouter than
father did, but dear old Sam never lost his shape, and you're like him."
There was little resemblance between the two men. William's face,
clean-shaven save for a mustache, showed few lines, though his hair had
whitened at the temples. Jack's hair and mustache were well sprinkled
with gray, and his crown was bald. He fingered a paper-weight on the
table nervously. A h
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