It was, in truth, the son. A moment later, he entered the room,
and went at once to his father, who was standing waiting, facing
the door.
"I'm awfully sorry I'm so late, Dad," he said simply.
"Where have you been?" the father demanded gravely. But there
was great affection in the flash of his gray eyes as he scanned
the young man's face, and the touch of the hand that he put on
Dick's shoulder was very tender. "With that woman again?"
The boy's voice was disconsolate as he replied:
"No, father, not with her. She won't see me."
The older man snorted a wrathful appreciation.
"Naturally!" he exclaimed with exceeding bitterness in the heavy
voice. "She's got all she wanted from you --my name!" He
repeated the words with a grimace of exasperation: "My name!"
There was a novel dignity in the son's tone as he spoke.
"It's mine, too, you know, sir," he said quietly.
The father was impressed of a sudden with the fact that, while
this affair was of supreme import to himself, it was, after all,
of still greater significance to his son.
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