She hesitated a moment; then she said swiftly: “Yes, Sam,” and looked at Wint with a quick, laughing glance. “Yes, Sam, I’ll walk along with you.”
Sam looked at Wint. “We’re much obliged to you,” he said.
Wint nodded. Then Sam and Hetty went down to the gate; and Wint watched them go away together.
CHAPTER IV
WINT’S RALLY
IT was well toward dinner time when Hetty and Sam O’Brien went away together and left Wint. He watched them to the corner, and thought Sam was a good fellow. And a lucky one, too. There was a fine strength and pride in Hetty. No doubt about it, Sam was lucky.
When they were out of sight, Wint went into the house. His father had not yet come downstairs; Mrs. Chase was still in the kitchen. Wint settled himself in the sitting room, and filled his pipe, and went over in his thoughts the scenes this room had witnessed in twenty-four hours past. He looked back at them as though he had been an observer. He could not believe he had been chief actor in them all. It is, perhaps, this trait of the human mind which permits mankind to rise to emergencies. The emergency does not seem like an emergency at the time. It seems rather like the ordinary run of life; it is only in retrospect that the actors realize, and wonder at themselves. There is, during these great moments, a vast simplicity about life. It had been so with Wint; it was only now, as he thought back over what had taken place, that the drama of it caught him. And he wondered at it all; and most of all he wondered at himself.
His father came downstairs, after a little while, and joined him. The older man made no reference to Hetty’s having been there; and Wint, at first minded to tell the whole story, to tell his father that Hetty was going to right the wrong she had done, decided on second thought to wait. It would be sweeter to anticipate their joy when they should hear the truth. So he held his tongue.
After a while, Mrs. Chase called them to dinner; and they went into the dining room together. Some impulse made Wint drop his hand lightly on his father’s shoulder; and the older man reached up and took Wint’s hand and held it, so that they crossed the hall with hands clasped, as though Wint were still a little boy. He was suddenly very proud of his father. And ever so fond of him....
At the dinner table, it was as though nothing had happened. Mrs. Chase was cheerful; she talked amiably of everything in the world except Hetty. Wint and Mr. Chase answered her—that is to say, they interrupted her with a remark now and then—while they ate. It was only when they both had finished that Chase looked at his son and said, a little awkwardly:
“You don’t want to forget you have a rally arranged for to-night, Wint.”