At first he was much depressed, and complained that “luck was dead against him.”  Moreover he felt that he had responded too harshly to his uncle, who, after all, was only trying to aid him in his cold-blooded way.  Nevertheless he, too, had his share of the Atwood pride and obstinacy, and he resolved that the man who had called him a “soft-headed fool” for sacrificing himself to his sense of honor and duty must apologize before there could be any reconciliation.  His good sense led him to make one wise resolution, and early in the morning he carried it out by making a clean breast of it to Mr. Wentworth.  The good man listened with deep interest, and heartened the young fellow wonderfully by clapping him on the shoulder and saying, “You are made of the right stuff, Atwood, and although the material is yet a little raw and crude, experience and Christian principle will temper it in time into the finest metal.”

“Don’t ascribe Christian principle to me,” growled Roger, “for I’m tempted to swear like a pirate.”

“Very likely, and not without some reason.  I occasionally feel a little that way myself, but I don’t do it; neither have you.”

Roger stared.  “You’re not a bit like a minister,” he burst out.

“Sorry to hear it.”

“That isn’t what I mean.  You are a man.  Our dominie up at Forestville was only a minister.”

“I have my share of human nature, Roger, and am glad of it, for I know from experience just how you young fellows feel.  But it involves many a big fight.  Christian principle doesn’t mean a cotton-and-wool nature, or a milk-and-water experience, to put it in a homely way.  It’s Christian principle that makes Mildred Jocelyn, as you say, one of the bravest and best girls in the world.  She’s worth more than all your uncle’s money, and you needn’t be discouraged, for you’ll win her yet.  A young fellow with your pluck can make his way unaided, and thousands have done so without your motives or your ability.  I’ll stand by you, for you are the kind of man that I believe in.  To make your course completely blameless, you must write a long filial letter to your mother, explaining everything; and if you’ll take my advice you will send something like this to your uncle;” and sitting down he scratched off the following words: 

“On calmer reflection I perceive that your intentions toward me were kindly and friendly.  I should have remembered this, and the respect due to your years, and not have spoken so harshly.  For all that it was not right for me to say, I apologize.  At the same time it is my undoubted right and unwavering purpose to be guided by my own conscience.  Our views of life and duty vary so widely that it will be best for me to struggle on alone, as I can.  This, however, is no reason why we should quarrel, or forget the ties of blood which unite us, or our characters as gentlemen.”

“Such a note will put you right with your own conscience and your people at home,” resumed Mr. Wentworth, “and there’s nothing like starting right.”