“Very well, then,” said his uncle, who had quieted down into an anger of white heat; “since you prefer those disreputable strangers to your family, go to them.  I wash my hands of you, and shall write to your father to this effect to-night.  I’m a prompt man and don’t dilly-dally.”

“Mrs. Jocelyn and her daughters are no more disreputable than you are, sir, and calling me ‘soft-headed fool’ doesn’t make me one.  I know the duty I owe my parents, and shall perform it.  I shall write to them also.  They shall hear both sides, and were your fortune multiplied a thousand times, I won’t sell my manhood for it.  Am I to have shelter another night, or do you wash your hands of me here and now?”

“Oh, stay by all means, or you may find yourself in the same cell in which your paragon spent last night,” replied his uncle, whose rage now passed all bounds.

“Those words are brutal,” said Roger sternly, “and if you are not ashamed of them after thinking them over, you are not the man I took you to be,” and he stalked out of the room and out of the house, slamming the door after him.

The old merchant sank into a chair, trembling with both anger and chagrin, for he felt that he had been worsted in the encounter.  He did regret the words as soon as spoken, and a certain rude sense of justice made him feel, even in his excitement, that his nephew, although an egregious fool of course, had been true to his sense of right and honor.  He was assuredly the victim of a designing lot of women, but believing them to be true, his course had been manly, and the thought would come, “Since he was so faithful to them, he would have been equally so to me, and he might have found the hussies out in time to prevent trouble.”  And now he had said words which in effect turned his brother’s son out of doors at midnight With something like a groan and an oath he resolved not to write that night, and to see how he felt in the morning.  His nephew on provocation had proved as great a Tartar as he knew himself to be, and he now remembered that the former had some excuse in his hot young blood, and that he had a right to choose against his offer, if fool enough to do it, without being reviled and insulted.

After a wretched night he found on the breakfast-table a brief, cold note from Roger, saying that he would inform him in a day or two where to send his effects and such part of his salary as remained unpaid.  The old man frowned, and the Atwood pride and obstinacy took possession of him like evil spirits.  In grim reticence he resumed his old routine and life, and again gave himself up to the mechanical accumulation and saving of money.

CHAPTER XXXVIII

No “Dark corners”

From his uncle’s house Roger went to a small hotel and obtained a room in which to spend a sleepless night.  After the excitement of anger passed, he recognized the difficulties of his position.  He was worse than friendless in the great city, for when he sought employment and gave an account of his antecedents, people would ask suspiciously why he left his uncle.  The reasons were of too delicate a nature to be babbled about in business offices.