in
them. But he said nothing. To cover up the clamorous silence between
father and son, Dr. Lavendar talked a good deal, but rather at random.
He was confounded by the situation. Had he made a mistake, after all,
in
insisting upon this interview? In his own mind he was asking for
wisdom, but aloud he spoke of the weather. His host gave no
conversational assistance except an occasional monosyllable, and his
senior warden was absolutely dumb. As for the subject which brought
them together, no further reference was made to it.

"Take some more whiskey, Dominic," said Mr. Wright. His eyes were
glittering; it was evident that he did not need any more himself.

Dr. Lavendar said, "No, thank you," and rose. Samuel shot up as though
a spring had been released.

"Going?" said Benjamin Wright; "a short call, considering how long it
is since we've met;--Lavendar."

Samuel cleared his throat. "'Night," he said huskily. Again there was
no hand-shaking; but as they reached the front door, Benjamin Wright
called to Dr. Lavendar, who stepped back into the library. Mr. Wright
had put on his hat, and was chewing orange-skin violently. "It ain't
any use trying to arrange anything with--So I'll try another tack." He
came close to Dr. Lavendar, plucking at the old minister's black
sleeve, his eyes snapping and his jaws working fast; he spoke in a
delighted whisper. "But, Lavendar--"

"Yes."