it all forced itself
once again upon him. He shrugged his shoulders despairingly; it was no
good.

The whole atmosphere oppressed him so that he felt powerless; some
hidden influence surrounded James, sucking from his blood, as it were,
all manliness, dulling his brain. He became a mere puppet, acting in
accordance to principles that were not his own, automatic, will-less.
His father sat, as ever, in the dining-room by the fire, for only in the
warmest weather could he do without artificial heat, and he read the
paper, sometimes aloud, making little comments. His mother, at the
table, on a stiff-backed chair, was knitting--everlastingly knitting.
Outwardly there was in them a placid content, and a gentleness which
made them seem pliant as wax; but really they were iron. James knew at
last how pitiless was their love, how inhumanly cruel their intolerance;
and of the two his father seemed more implacable, more horribly
relentless. His mother's anger was bearable, but the Colonel's very
weakness was a deadly weapon. His despair, his dumb sorrow, his entire
dependence on the forbearance of others, were more tyrannical than the
most despotic power. James was indeed a bird beating himself against the
imprisoning cage; and its bars were loving-kindness and trust, tears,
silent distress, bitter disillusion, and old age.

"Where's Mary?" asked James.

"She's in the garden, walking with Uncle William."

"How well they get on together," said the Colonel, smiling.

James looked at his father, and thought he had never seen him so old and
feeble. His hands were almost transparent; his thin white hair, his
bowed shoulders, gave an impression of utter weakness.

"Are you very glad the wedding is so near, father?" asked James, placing
his hand gently on the old man's shoulder.

"I should think I was."

"You want to get rid of me so badly?"

"'A man shall leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his
wife; and they shall be one flesh.' We shall have to do without you."

"I wonder whether you are fonder of Mary than of me?"

The Colonel did not answer, but Mrs. Parsons laughed.

"My impression is that your father has grown so devoted to Mary that he
hardly thinks you worthy of her."

"Really? And yet you want me to marry her, don't you, daddy?"

"It's the wish of my heart."

"Were you very wretched when our engagement was broken off?"

"Don't talk of it! Now it's all settled, Jamie, I can tell you that I'