Kennedy Square | Page 9

mad--raging mad! He's only got one daughter, and
she the proudest and loveliest thing on earth, and that one he intends to
give to you"--Harry looked up in surprise--"Yes--he told me so. And
here you are breaking her heart before he has announced it to the world.
It's worse than damnable, Harry--it's a CRIME!"
For some minutes he continued his walk, stopping to look out of the
window, his eyes on the mare who, with head up and restless eyes, was
on the watch for her master's return; then he picked up his pipe from
the table, threw himself into his chair again, and broke into one of his

ringing laughs.
"I reckon it's because you're twenty, Harry, I forgot that. Hot blood--hot
temper,--madcap dare-devil that you are--not a grain of common-sense.
But what can you expect?--I was just like you at your age. Come, now,
what shall we do first?"
The young fellow rose and a smile of intense relief crept over his face.
He had had many such overhaulings from his uncle, and always with
this ending. Whenever St. George let out one of those big, spontaneous,
bubbling laughs straight from his heart, the trouble, no matter how
serious, was over. What some men gained by anger and invective St.
George gained by good humor, ranging from the faint smile of
toleration to the roar of merriment. One reason why he had so few
enemies--none, practically--was that he could invariably disarm an
adversary with a laugh. It was a fine old blade that he wielded; only a
few times in his life had he been called upon to use any other--when
some under-dog was maltreated, or his own good name or that of a
friend was traduced, or some wrong had to be righted--then his face
would become as hot steel and there would belch out a flame of
denunciation that would scorch and blind in its intensity. None of these
fiercer moods did the boy know;--what he knew was his uncle's merry
side--his sympathetic, loving side,--and so, following up his advantage,
he strode across the room, settled down on the arm of his uncle's chair,
and put his arm about his shoulders.
"Won't you go and see her, please?" he pleaded, patting his back,
affectionately.
"What good will that do? Hand me a match, Harry."
"Everything--that's what I came for."
"Not with Kate! She isn't a child--she's a woman," he echoed back
between the puffs, his indignation again on the rise. "And she is
different from the girls about here," he added, tossing the burned match
in the fire. "When she once makes up her mind it stays made up."

"Don't let her make it up! Go and see her and tell her how I love her
and how miserable I am. Tell her I'll never break another promise to her
as long as I live. Nobody ever holds out against you. Please, Uncle
George! I'll never come to you for anything else in the world if you'll
help me this time. And I won't drink another drop of anything you don't
want me to drink--I don't care what father or anybody else says. Oh,
you've GOT to go to her!--I can't stand it any longer! Every time I think
of Kate hidden away over there where I can't get at her, it drives me
wild. I wouldn't ask you to go if I could go myself and talk it out with
her--but she won't let me near her--I've tried, and tried; and Ben says
she isn't at home, and knows he lies when he says it! You will go, won't
you?"
The smoke from his uncle's pipe was coming freer now--most of it
escaping up the throat of the chimney with a gentle swoop.
"When do you want me to go?" He had already surrendered. When had
he ever held out when a love affair was to be patched up?
"Now, right away."
"No,--I'll go to-night,--she will be at home then," he said at last, as if he
had just made up his mind, the pipe having helped--"and do you come
in about nine and--let me know when you are there, or--better still, wait
in the hall until I come for you."
"But couldn't I steal in while you are talking?"
"No--you do just as I tell you. Not a sound out of you, remember, until
I call you."
"But how am I to know? She might go out the other door and--"
"You'll know when I come for you."
"And you think it will be all right, don't you?" he pleaded. "You'll tell
her what an awful time I've had, won't you, Uncle George?"

"Yes, every word of it."
"And that I haven't slept a wink since--"
"Yes--and that you are going to drown yourself and blow your