down the law to everybody; richer than most of us in Old Chester, and
full of solemn responsibilities as burgess and senior warden and
banker. His air of aggressive integrity used to make the honestest of
us feel as if we had been picking pockets! Yes; a good man, as Old
Chester said.

Years ago Dr. Lavendar had given up trying to reconcile the two
Wrights; years ago Old Chester's speculations languished and died out.
Once in a while some one remembered the quarrel and said, "What in the
world could it have been about?" And once in a while Samuel's own
children asked awkward questions. "Mother, what was father's row with
grandfather?" And Mrs. Wright's answer was as direct as the question.
"I don't know. He never told me."

When this reply was made to young Sam he dropped the subject. He had
but faint interest in his father, and his grandfather with whom he
took tea every Sunday night was too important a person to connect with
so trivial an affair as a quarrel.

This matter of offspring is certainly very curious. Why should the
solid Samuel Wright and his foolish, obedient Eliza have brought into
the world a being of mist and fire? A beautiful youth, who laughed or
wept or sung aloud, indifferent to all about him! Sometimes Sam senior
used to look at his son and shake his head in bewildered astonishment;
but often he was angry, and oftener still--though this he never
admitted--hurt. The boy, always impersonally amiable, never thought it
worth while to explain himself; partly because he was not interested
in his father's opinion of his conduct, and partly because he knew he
could not make himself understood.