He had now wrought himself into a state of excitement, which relieved his spirits of the depression that had weighed on them up to this time. His harmless vanity, always, as I suspect, a latent quality in his kindly nature, had already restored his confidence. With a self-sufficient smile he consulted his own unintelligible entries, and made his own wild discoveries.
“Ah, yes; ‘M’ stands for Minister; I come first. Am I to blame? Am I--God forgive me my many sins--am I heartless? Am I deceitful?”
“My good friend, not even your enemies could say that!”
“Thank you. Who comes next?” He consulted the book again. “Her mother, her sainted mother, comes next. People say she is like her mother. Was my wife heartless? Was the angel of my life deceitful?”
(“That,” I thought to myself, “is exactly what your wife was--and exactly what reappears in your wife’s child.”)
“Where does her wickedness come from?” he went on. “Not from her mother; not from me; not from a neglected education.” He suddenly stepped up to me and laid his hands on my shoulders; his voice dropped to hoarse, moaning, awestruck tones. “Shall I tell you what it is? A possession of the devil.”
It was so evidently desirable to prevent any continuation of such a train of thought as this, that I could feel no hesitation in interrupting him.
“Will you hear what I have to say?” I asked bluntly.
His humor changed again; he made me a low bow, and went back to his chair. “I will hear you with pleasure,” he answered politely. “You are the most eloquent man I know, with one exception--myself. Of course--myself.”
“It is mere waste of time,” I continued, “to regret the excellent education which your daughter has misused.” Making that reply, I was tempted to add another word of truth. All education is at the mercy of two powerful counter-influences: the influence of temperament, and the influence of circumstances. But this was philosophy. How could I expect him to submit to philosophy? “What we know of Miss Helena,” I went on, “must be enough for us. She has plotted, and she means to succeed. Stop her.”
“Just my idea!” he declared firmly. “I refuse my consent to that abominable marriage.”
In the popular phrase, I struck while the iron was hot. “You must do more than that, sir,” I told him.