Malherb noted the difference of tone, but made no comment upon it.
"She and I stand in the relation of father and daughter," he answered. "That is not new; and yet it is new. I have learned a good deal of late. My judgment is shaken within me."
"'Where the judgment's weak, the prejudice is strong.' You talk as if you had been in fault, instead of your daughter."
"You were not wont to speak so to me."
"Nor you to act so. Life is short, and even my astounding patience has run out."
"Listen," said Malherb, reining up his horse and lifting his hand. "Trouble has fallen upon me—terrible trouble. You shall know—everybody shall know; but not yet. It is in Job—set there in the awful words of Scripture: 'He discovereth deep things out of darkness, and bringeth out to light the shadow of death.' I have done evil, Norcot; I have fallen as I pray you may never fall. Invisible powers have rent me and torn me. I tell you that I have been through dark waters."
"Bless my soul! all the deities in a rumpus over one man! Tut, tut! What then? If you've learned some wisdom—if you've found out that God is jealous and takes mighty good care none of us shall be wiser than He is—then there's hope for you."
"I have learned much. This girl—my girl—she has suffered a great deal. Frankly, we have overlooked her rights."
"What moonshine do you talk, my dear Malherb?"
The other's eyes flashed—then dulled. His rage was but a shadow of its old self, and, like a shadow, vanished. He answered listlessly.