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Ellen's account。〃
〃Oh； you'll enjoy it；〃 his son evaded him。
〃You haven't seen anything of him lately？〃 Kenton suggested。
〃He wasn't likely to let me see anything of him；〃 returned the son。
〃No；〃 said the father。 〃Well！〃 He rose to put the key into the door；
and his son stepped down from the little porch to the brick walk。
〃Mary will have dinner early； father； and when you've got through here；
you'd better come over and lie down a while beforehand。〃
Kenton had been dropped at eight o'clock from a sleeper on the Great
Three； and had refused breakfast at his son's house； upon the plea that
the porter had given him a Southern cantaloupe and a cup of coffee on the
train； and he was no longer hungry。
〃All right；〃 he said。 〃I won't be longer than I can help。〃 He had got
the door open and was going to close it again。
His son laughed。 〃Better not shut it； father。 It will let the fresh air
in。〃
〃Oh； all right；〃 said the old man。
The son lingered about； giving some orders to the hired man in the
vegetable garden； for an excuse； in the hope that his father might change
his mind and ask him to come into the house with him； he felt it so
forlorn for him to be going through those lifeless rooms alone。 When he
looked round； and saw his father holding the door ajar； as if impatiently
waiting for him to be gone； he laughed and waved his hand to him。 〃All
right； father？ I'm going now。〃 But though he treated the matter so
lightly with his father； he said grimly to his wife； as he passed her on
their own porch； on his way to his once； 〃I don't like to think of father
being driven out of house and home this way。〃
〃Neither do I； Dick。 But it can't be helped； can it？〃
〃I think I could help it； if I got my hands on that fellow once。〃
〃No； you couldn't； Dick。 It's not he that's doing it。 It's Ellen； you
know that well enough； and you've just got to stand it。〃
〃Yes； I suppose so；〃 said Richard Kenton。
〃Of course； my heart aches for your poor old father； but so it would if
Ellen had some kind of awful sickness。 It is a kind of sickness； and you
can't fight it any more than if she really was sick。〃
〃No；〃 said the husband； dejectedly。 〃You just slip over there； after a
while； Mary； if father's gone too long； will you？ I don't like to have
him there alone。〃
〃'Deed and 'deed I won't； Dick。 He wouldn't like it at all； my spying
round。 Nothing can happen to him； and I believe your mother's just made
an excuse to send him after something； so that he can be in there alone；
and realize that the house isn't home any more。 It will be easier for
him to go to Europe when he finds that out。 I believe in my heart that
was her idea in not wanting me to find the things for him； and I'm not
going to meddle myself。〃
With the fatuity of a man in such things； and with the fatuity of age
regarding all the things of the past； Kenton had thought in his
homesickness of his house as he used to be in it； and had never been able
to picture it without the family life。 As he now walked through the
empty rooms； and up and down the stairs； his pulse beat low as if in the
presence of death。 Everything was as they had left it； when they went
out of the house； and it appeared to Kenton that nothing had been touched
there since； though when he afterwards reported to his wife that there
was not a speck of dust anywhere she knew that Mary had been going
through the house； in their absence； not once only； but often； and she
felt a pang of grateful jealousy。 He got together the things that Mrs。
Kenton had pretended to want； and after glancing in at the different
rooms； which seemed to be lying stealthily in wait for him； with their
emptiness and silence； he went down…stairs with the bundle he had made；
and turned into his library。 He had some thought of looking at the
collections for his history； but； after pulling open one of the drawers
in which they were stored； he pushed it to again； and sank listlessly
into his leather…covered swivel…chair； which stood in its place before
the wide writing…table； and seemed to have had him in it before he sat
down。 The table was bare； except for the books and documents which he
had sent home from time to time during the winter； and which Richard or
his wife had neatly arranged there without breaking their wraps。 He let
fall his bundle at his feet； and sat staring at the ranks of books
against the wall； mechanically relating them to the different epochs of
the past in which he or his wife or his children had been interested in
them； and aching with tender pain。 He had always supposed himself a
happy and strong and successful man； but what a dreary ruin his life had
fallen into！ Was it to be finally so helpless and powerless （for with
all the defences about him that a man can have； he felt himself fatally
vulnerable） that he had fought so many years？ Why； at his age； should he
be going into exile； away from everything that could make his days bright
and sweet？ Why could not he come back there； where he was now more
solitary than he could be anywhere else on earth； and reanimate the dead
body of his home with his old life？ He knew why； in an immediate sort；
but his quest was for the cause behind the cause。 What had he done； or
left undone？ He had tried to be a just man； and fulfil all his duties
both to his family and to his neighbors； he had wished to be kind； and
not to harm any one； he reflected how； as he had grown older； the dread
of doing any unkindness had grown upon him； and how he had tried not to
be proud； but to walk meekly and humbly。 Why should he be punished as he
was； stricken in a place so sacred that the effort to defend himself had
seemed a kind of sacrilege？ He could not make it out； and he was not
aware of the tears of self…pity that stole slowly down his face； though
from time to time he wiped them away。
He heard steps in the hall without； advancing and pausing； which must be
those of his son coming back for him； and with these advances and pauses
giving him notice of his approach； but he did not move； and at first he
did not look up when the steps arrived at the threshold of the room where
he sat。 When he lifted his eyes at last he saw Bittridge lounging in the
door…way； with one shoulder supported against the door…jamb； his hands in
his pockets and his hat pushed well back on his forehead。 In an instant
all Kenton's humility and soft repining were gone。 〃Well； what is it？〃
he called。
〃Oh；〃 said Bittridge； coming forward。 He laughed and explained； 〃Didn't
know if you recognized me。〃
〃I recognized you；〃 said Kenton； fiercely。 〃What is it you want？〃
〃Well； I happened to be passing； and I saw the door open； and I thought
maybe Dick was here。〃
It was on Kenton's tongue to say that it was a good thing for him Dick
was not there。 But partly the sense that this would be unbecoming
bluster； and partly the suffocating resentment of the fellow's impudence；
limited his response to a formless gasp； and Bittridge went on： 〃But I'm
glad to find you here； judge。 I didn't know that you were in town。
Family all well in New York？〃 He was not quelled by the silence of the
judge on this point； but； as if he had not expected any definite reply to
what might well pass for formal civility； he now looked aslant into his
breast…pocket from which he drew a folded paper。 〃I just got hold of a
document this morning that I think will interest you。 I was bringing it
round to Dick's wife for you。〃 The intolerable familiarity of all this
was fast working Kenton to a violent explosion； but he contained himself；
and Bittridge stepped forward to lay the paper on the table before him。
〃It's the original roster of Company C； in your regiment； and〃
〃Take it away！〃 shouted Kenton； 〃and take yourself away with it！〃 and he
grasped the stick that shook in his hand。
A wicked light came into Bittridge's eye as he drawled； in lazy scorn；
〃Oh； I don't know。〃 Then his truculence broke in a malicious amusement。
〃Why； judge； what's the matter？〃 He put on a face of mock gravity； and
Kenton knew with helpless fury that he was enjoying his vantage。 He
could fall upon him an