"There was a time," retorted the banker, "when you did not refuse to
accept it."

"Yes," Holder replied, "that is true." It came to him vividly then that
it had been Alison herself who had cast the enlightening gleam which
revealed his inconsistency. But he did not defend himself.

"I can see nothing in all this, Mr. Hodder, but a species of insanity,"
said Eldon Parr, and there crept into his tone both querulousness and
intense exasperation. "In the first place, you insist upon marrying my
daughter when neither she nor you have any dependable means of support.
She never spared her criticisms of me, and you presume to condemn me,
a man who, if he has neglected his children, has done so because he has
spent too much of his time in serving his community and his country, and
who has--if I have to say it myself--built up the prosperity which you
and others are doing your best to tear down, and which can only result in
the spread of misery. You profess to have a sympathy with the masses,
but you do not know them as I do. They cannot control themselves, they
require a strong hand. But I am not asking for your sympathy. I have
been misunderstood all my life, I have become used to ingratitude, even
from my children, and from the rector of the church for which I have done
more than any other man."

Hodder stared at him in amazement.

"You really believe that!" he exclaimed.

"Believe it!" Eldon Parr repeated. "I have had my troubles, as heavy
bereavements as a man can have. All of them, even this of my son's
death, all the ingratitude and lack of sympathy I have experienced--"