Following Stover’s counsel, he went to Mr. Westcott with an artificial penitence on his lips; but there was already a half-formed, half-real penitence in his heart. By what means Mr. Westcott pierced his shell and made this half-penitence wholly real, we may not inquire. The head-master had a skill in such interviews, the product of much experience and a genuine desire to help rather than to punish; and Dunn’s career offered few points capable of defence, when considered with frankness and honesty. That his repentance was indeed real, and his resolution to face about, was, for the moment at least, genuine, is proved by two circumstances: first, he acquiesced, though sadly, in Mr. Westcott’s decision that if he was to regain lost ground, he could not afford the time and the thought which school baseball required; secondly, he confessed, unsolicited, many of his misdeeds, including his part in the episode of the sand bath.
“I suspected it,” said Mr. Westcott, “but we won’t consider that now. That belongs to the past. We start anew to-day.”
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DUNN’S change of heart was not as sudden as it seemed. A boy often builds for himself a certain structure of false principle which it gratifies his vanity to consider his permanent philosophy of life. When faults in this structure develop, he shuts his eyes to them or patches them with flattering sophistries; and even when the foundations are actually crumbling away, he affects a firm confidence because he is too weak to face the task of rebuilding. In the end some bitter experience may undermine the last support and bring down the edifice with a crash.
So it was with Dunn. He had been aware for some time that he was on the wrong track, but he could not bring himself to acknowledge the fact. The information that even when he felt most bitter against Hardie, Hardie had secretly done him a good turn, stirred his sense of shame and disproved his assumption that all the boys had been down on him from the beginning. He recognized clearly enough now that he had been making a fool of himself, and that the only sensible course was to retrace his steps and start anew in a different path. He went that evening to Hardie’s room, announced that he was going to turn over a new leaf, and asked if he might drop in occasionally for a lift over a hard place. He said nothing of the dancing-school invitation; that lay now too far away in the past.