She shook her head. "That day at the funeral, I thought how they used

to bring the murderer into the presence of the man he had killed."

William King was really displeased. "Now, look here, you must stop

this sort of thing! It's not only foolish, but it's dangerous. We can

none of us play with our consciences without danger; they cut both

ways."

Mrs. Richie was silent. The doctor got up and planted himself on the

hearth-rug, his back to the fire, and his hands under his coat tails.

"Let's have it out: How could you help it because that poor boy fell

in love? You couldn't help being yourself--could you? And Sam couldn't

help being sentimental. Your gentleness and goodness were like

something he had never seen before. But you had to stop the

sentimentality, of course; that was just your duty. And I know how

wisely you did it--and kindly. But the boy was always a self-absorbed

dreamer; the mental balance was too delicate; it dipped the wrong way;

his mind went. To feel it was your fault is absolute nonsense. Now

there! I've never been so out of patience with you before," he ended

smiling; "but you deserve it."

"I don't deserve it," she said; "I wish I did."

"When I spoke about goodness," the doctor amended, "I didn't mean to

reflect on his father and mother. Mrs. Wright is one of the best women

in the world. I only meant--" William sat down and looked into the

fire. "Well; just plain goodness isn't necessarily--attractive. A

man--at least a boy like Sam, admires goodness, of course; but he does

sort of hanker after prettiness;" William's eyes dwelt on her bent

head, on the sheer muslin under David's cheek, on the soft incapable

hands that always made him think of white apple-blossoms, clasped

around the child's yielding body;--"Yes; something pretty, and

pleasant, and sweet; that's what a man--I mean a boy, Sam was only a

boy; really wants. And his mother, good as she is, is not,--well; I

don't know how to express it."

Helena looked over at him with a faint smile. "I thought goodness was

the finest thing in the world; I'm sure I used to be told so," she

ended dully.

"Of course, you would feel that," the doctor protested; "and it

is, of course it is! Only, I can understand how a boy might feel. Down

at the Wrights' there was just nothing but plain goodness, oh, very

plain, Mrs. Richie. It was all bread-and-butter. Necessary; I'm the

last person to say that bread-and-butter isn't necessary. But you do

want cake, once in a while; I mean when you are young. Sam couldn't

help liking cake," he ended smiling.




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