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〃Certainly not！ The Vanderhoof set is wild and godlessI do not
wish to
see you keeping company with fools who walk in the broad and easy
way that
leads to perdition。〃
〃It is rather a hard choice；〃 said the young man； with a short
laugh；
turning toward the door。 〃According to you there's very little
differencea fool's paradise or a fool's hell！ Well； it's one
or
the other for me； and I'll toss up for it to…night： heads； I
lose；
tails； the devil wins。 Anyway； I'm sick of this； and I'm out of
it。〃
〃Harold；〃 said the older man （and there was a slight tremor in
his voice）；
〃don't let us quarrel on Christmas Eve。 All I want is to
persuade you to
think seriously of the duties and responsibilities to which God
has
called youdon't speak lightly of heaven and hellremember；
there is
another life。〃
The young man came back and laid his hand upon his father's
shoulder。
〃Father；〃 he said； 〃I want to remember it。 I try to believe in
it。
But somehow or other； in this house； it all seems unreal to me。
No doubt all you say is perfectly right and wise。 I don't
venture to
argue against it； but I can't feel itthat's all。 If I'm to
have a soul；
either to lose or to save； I must really live。 Just now neither
the
present nor the future means anything to me。 But surely we won't
quarrel。
I'm very grateful to you； and we'll part friends。 Good…night；
sir。〃
The father held out his hand in silence。 The heavy portiere
dropped noiselessly behind the son； and he went up the wide；
curving stairway to his own room。
Meantime John Weightman sat in his carved chair in the Jacobean
dining…room。 He felt strangely old and dull。 The portraits of
beautiful women by Lawrence and Reynolds and Raeburn； which had
often
seemed like real company to him； looked remote and uninteresting。
He fancied something cold and almost unfriendly in their
expression；
as if they were staring through him or beyond him。 They cared
nothing for
his principles； his hopes； his disappointments； his successes；
they belonged to another world； in which he had no place。 At
this he felt
a vague resentment； a sense of discomfort that he could not have
defined
or explained。 He was used to being considered； respected；
appreciated at his full value in every region； even in that of
his own dreams。
Presently he rang for the butler； telling him to close the house
and
not to sit up； and walked with lagging steps into the long
library；
where the shaded lamps were burning。 His eye fell upon the low
shelves
full of costly books； but he had no desire to open them。 Even
the
carefully chosen pictures that hung above them seemed to have
lost
their attraction。 He paused for a moment before an idyll of
Corota dance
of nymphs around some forgotten altar in a vaporous gladeand
looked at
it curiously。 There was something rapturous and serene about the
picture；
a breath of spring…time in the misty trees； a harmony of joy in
the dancing figures； that wakened in him a feeling of
half…pleasure
and half…envy。 It represented something that he had never known
in his
calculated； orderly life。 He was dimly mistrustful of it。
〃It is certainly very beautiful；〃 he thought； 〃but it is
distinctly pagan；
that altar is built to some heathen god。 It does not fit into
the scheme of a Christian life。 I doubt whether it is consistent
with
the tone of my house。 I will sell it this winter。 It will bring
three or four times what I paid for it。 That was a good
purchase；
a very good bargain。〃
He dropped into the revolving chair before his big library table。
It was covered with pamphlets and reports of the various
enterprises
in which he was interested。 There was a pile of newspaper
clippings
in which his name was mentioned with praise for his sustaining
power as
a pillar of finance； for his judicious benevolence； for his
support of
wise and prudent reform movements； for his discretion in making
permanent
public gifts〃the Weightman Charities；〃 one very complaisant
editor
called them； as if they deserved classification as a distinct
species。
He turned he papers over listlessly。 There was a description and
a picture of the 〃Weightman Wing of the Hospital for Cripples；〃
of which he was president； and an article on the new professor in
the 〃Weightman Chair of Political Jurisprudence〃 in Jackson
University；
of which he was a trustee； and an illustrated account of the
opening of
the 〃Weightman Grammar…School〃 at Dulwich…on…the…Sound； where he
had his
legal residence for purposes of taxation。
This last was perhaps the most carefully planned of all the
Weightman Charities。 He desired to win the confidence and
support of
his rural neighbors。 It had pleased him much when the local
newspaper
had spoken of him as an ideal citizen and the logical candidate
for
the Governorship of the State； but upon the whole it seemed to
him
wiser to keep out of active politics。 It would be easier and
better to
put Harold into the running； to have him sent to the Legislature
from
the Dulwich district； then to the national House； then to the
Senate。
Why not？ The Weightman interests were large enough to need a
direct
representative and guardian at Washington。
But to…night all these plans came back to him with dust upon
them。
They were dry and crumbling like forsaken habitations。 The son
upon whom his complacent ambition had rested had turned his back
upon
the mansion of his father's hopes。 The break might not be final；
and in any event there would be much to live for； the fortunes of
the family would be secure。 But the zest of it all would be gone
if
John Weightman had to give up the assurance of perpetuating his
name
and his principles in his son。 It was a bitter disappointment；
and he felt that he had not deserved it。
He rose from the chair and paced the room with leaden feet。
For the first time in his life his age was visibly upon him。
His head was heavy and hot； and the thoughts that rolled in it
were confused and depressing。 Could it be that he had made a
mistake
in the principles of his existence？ There was no argument in
what Harold had saidit was almost childishand yet
it had shaken the elder man more deeply than he cared to show。
It held a silent attack which touched him more than open
criticism。
Suppose the end of his life were nearer than he thoughtthe end
must come some timewhat if it were now？ Had he not
founded his house upon a rock？ Had he not kept the Commandments？
Was he not； 〃touching the law； blameless〃？ And beyond this；
even if there were some faults in his characterand all men are
sinners
yet he surely believed in the saving doctrines of religionthe
forgiveness
of sins； the resurre