We used to
rag him a lot, but you held aloof and we told him we didn't believe he
had a cousin. We discovered after a while that he was sensitive
because you didn't come when he asked you, and we quit ragging him
about it. You didn't even come when he took his degree."
"No. I--Oh, Philip! I am sorry."
"Your aunt," went on Philip, "was not mentally adapted to inspire his
respect. He merely laughed and petted her into tearful subjection.
You were the only one, Diane, who was his equal in body and brain, and
you failed him at a period when your influence would have been
tremendous. I can't forget," added Philip soberly, "that much of this
I knew in college and carelessly enough I ignored it all later. I let
him drift when I might have done much to help him."
Philip's instinct was right and kindly.
He had provided a counter wound to dwarf, at saving intervals, the
sting of Aunt Agatha's frightened revelation. Thereafter, the memory
of Philip's loyal rebuke was to trouble her sorely, temper a little the
old intolerance and arouse her keen remorse. The consciousness that
Philip disapproved was quite enough.
With a sudden gesture of solicitude, Diane touched the sleeve of his
shirt. It was very wet.
"Philip!" she exclaimed, springing to her feet.
Pages:
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334