All these thoughts coursed through his mind as he leaned back in his chair, his lips tight set, the jaw firm and determined--only the lids quivering as he mastered the tears that crept to their edges. Now and then, in his mental absorption, he would absently cross his legs only to straighten them out again, his state of mind an open book to Gorsuch, who had followed the same line of reasoning and who had brought the news himself that he might the better watch its effect.
“I'm surprised that Temple should select the Patapsco. It has never got over its last smash of four years ago,” Gorsuch at last remarked. He did not intend to let the topic drift away from Harry if he could help it.
“I am not surprised, John. St. George is the best fellow in the world, but he never lets anything work but his heart. When you get at the bottom of it you will find that he's backed up the bank because some poor devil of a teller or clerk, or may be some director, is his friend. That's enough for St. George, and further than that he never goes. He's thrown away two fortunes now--his grandmother's, which was small but sound--and his father's, which if he had attended to it would have kept him comfortable all his life.”
“You had some words at the club, I heard,” interjected Gorsuch.
“No, he had some words, I had a julep,” and the colonel smiled grimly.
“But you are still on good terms, are you not?”
“I am, but he isn't. But that is of no consequence. No man in his senses would ever get angry with St. George, no matter what he might say or do. He hasn't a friend in the world who could be so ill bred. And as to calling him out--you would as soon think of challenging your wife. St. George talks from his heart, never his head. I have loved him for thirty years and know exactly what I am talking about--and yet let me tell you, Gorsuch, that with all his qualities--and he is the finest-bred gentleman I know--he can come closer to being a natural born fool than any man of his years and position in Kennedy Square. This treatment of my son--whom I am trying to bring up a gentleman--is one proof of it, and this putting all his eggs into one basket--and that a rotten basket--is another.”
“Well, then--if that is your feeling about it, colonel, why not go and see him? As I have said, he needs all the friends he's got at a time like this.” If he could bring the two men together the boy might come home. Not to be able to wave back to Harry as he dashed past on Spitfire, had been a privation which the whole settlement had felt. “That is, of course,” he continued, “if St. George Temple would be willing to receive you. He would be--wouldn't he?”