Every drop of his Southern blood was fired, and, with clinched
hands, he strode homeward, and passed a sleepless night.
CHAPTER XIX
A CHIVALROUS IMPULSE
It must be admitted that Clancy had some cause for his perturbation.
Captain Bodine was a middle-aged man, who had had deep, if not wide
experiences. He had come to regard himself as saddened and way-worn,
halting slowly down the westward slope of life, away from the exaltations
of vanished joys, and the almost despairing grief of former sorrows.
Memory kept both in sharp outline; nevertheless they were receding, as do
hills and mountains which the traveller leaves behind him. The veteran had
believed that he had no future besides earning an honest living, and
providing for his beloved child.
The traveller--to employ again the figure--often journeys forward in what
promises to be a monotonous road. He is not expecting anything, nor is he
looking forward to any material change. Unawares he surmounts a little
eminence, and there opens a vista which kindles his dull eyes with its
beauty, and stirs his heavy heart with the suggestion that he has not
passed by and beyond all the best things of life.
Mara's glance of profound and intelligent sympathy had opened such a vista
to Bodine's mental vision. It had been enough then; it had been enough
since, in the main, that she was the daughter of his old and dearest
friend, and that their thoughts, beliefs and sorrows were in such complete
accord.
Pages:
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198