Early upon the second Sunday after the Bayses' advent to Indianapolis, Dic, disdaining the stage, rode a-horseback and covered the distance before noon. Mr. Bays and Tom received him with open arms. Rita would have done likewise in a more literal sense could she have had him alone for a moment. But you can see her smiles and hear her gentle heart beats, even as Dic saw and heard them. A bunch of cold, bony fingers was given to Dic by Mother Justice. When he arrived Williams was present awaiting dinner, and after Mrs. Bays had given the cold fingers, she said:—
"I suppose we'll have to try to crowd another plate on the table. We didn't expect an extra guest."
Rita endured without complaint her mother's thrusts when she alone received them, but rebelled when Dic was attacked. In the kitchen she told her mother that she would insult Williams if Mrs. Bays again insulted Dic. The girl was so frightened by her own boldness that she trembled, and although the mother's heart showed signs of weakness, there was not time, owing to the scorching turkey, for a total collapse. There was, however, time for a few random biblical quotations, and they were almost as effective as heart failure in subduing the insolent, disobedient, ungrateful, sacrilegious, wicked daughter for whom the fond mother had toiled and suffered and endured, lo! these many years.
When Rita and her mother returned to the front room to invite the guests to dinner, Dic thanked Mrs. Bays, and said he would go to the tavern. Rita's face at once became a picture of woe, but she was proud of Dic's spirit, and gloried in his exhibition of self-respect. When Mrs. Bays saw that Dic resented her insult, she insisted that he should remain. She said there was plenty for all, and that there was more room at the table than she had supposed. But Dic took his hat and started toward the door. Tom tried to take the hat from his hand, saying:—
"Nonsense, Dic, you will stay. You must," and Mr. Bays said:—
"Come, come, boy, don't be foolish. It has been a long time since you took a meal with us. It will seem like old times again. Put down your hat."
Dic refused emphatically, and Tom, taking up his own hat, said:—
"If Dic goes to the inn, I go with him. Mother's a damned old fool." I wish I might have heard the undutiful son speak those blessed words!
Williams was delighted when Rita did not insist upon Dic's remaining, but his delight died ignominiously when the girl with tears in her eyes took Dic's hand before them all and said:—