"Yes, I think I am a little. I'll go to bed."
Hazlewood watched Dick walk over to the corner table where the candles stood beside the tray, and his face cleared. For the first time in his life the tidy well-groomed conventional look of his son was a real pleasure to him. Richard was of those to whom the good-will of the world meant much. He would never throw it lightly away. Hazlewood got up and took one of the candles from his son. He patted him on the shoulder. He became quite at ease as he looked into his face.
"Good-night, my boy," he said.
"Good-night, sir," replied Dick cheerfully. "There's nothing like acting up to one's theories, is there?"
"Nothing," said the old man heartily. "Look at my life!"
"Yes," replied Dick. "And now look at mine. I am going to marry Stella
Ballantyne."
For a moment Mr. Hazlewood stood perfectly still. Then he murmured lamely:
"Oh, are you? Are you, Richard?" and he shuffled quickly out of the room.